


Loser

by HeemaWren



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, awkward teenage boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeemaWren/pseuds/HeemaWren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were both losers, but Furihata wasn't going to let it stay that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Furihata wasn’t sure why he remembered the exact moment he found out. It had been an unremarkable day in every way possible. It was cloudy and cold and miserable outside, but school and practice had proceeded as usual. Just another day on the calendar. Still, he could clearly picture sitting in the locker room after practice with Fukuda and Kawahara chattering in his ear, when the echo of a phone dropping to the floor turned his head.

“Kuroko? What’s wrong?” Kagami asked as his blue haired partner bent to pick up his phone.

“Momoi-san texted me,” Kuroko replied in his usual flat tone. “She said Akashi-kun is quitting basketball.”

“What?! Why?!”

Furihata had been surprised as Kagami sounded, but didn’t bother voicing it. After all, Akashi was a friend of a friend at best, and the most terrifying person on the planet at worst. The only real effect it had on him was that Rakuzan would be less of a threat in the Interhigh this coming summer. It was none of his business.

Furihata had other things on his mind, anyways. After their victory in the Winter Cup last winter, the basketball team’s popularity soared, and he’d finally had the courage to ask out the girl he liked. Even if he himself hadn’t become number one, the team had, and he was part of the team. To his surprise, his courage paid off and they began dating.

However, once the end of the school year closed in, things quickly began to deteriorate. Her excuses to not see him piled up. She started becoming increasingly distant. As hard as he tried to stay optimistic, it got to him. Then Kawahara had caught him after practice one day and told him some of his classmates had seen her out with the captain of the baseball team. At first, she insisted they were just friends, but the more the topic came up, the more the truth came out. Finally, she said the dreaded words: “I think we should break up.”

It had come just in time for him to nearly bomb his exams. He managed to scrape by with passing grades, but just barely. Only a couple weeks into the new school year, he saw them together everywhere. Rumors spread about the new couple like wildfire, and he had no choice but to sit back and watch it all unfold. It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise, really. The baseball captain was tall and handsome, and while the team itself wasn’t as impressive as Seirin’s basketball team, he was a good player and a good captain.

In short, he was everything Furihata was not.

Any pride he had at his team winning the Winter Cup was gone, and any confidence he’d gained from it had disappeared as well. He went to practice everyday, but in truth, he was just going through the motions. He’d joined the basketball team for _her,_ and while he liked his teammates and playing in games, it was obvious he would never become a spectacular player like Kagami or his senpai, no matter how hard he worked. Even a few of the new freshman that had been attracted by their freshly earned reputation were better than him.

Yet, even with all these negative thoughts swirling around his head, the mystery of Akashi quitting basketball still stuck out. Several times he found himself in the middle of the night, rather than wallowing in self pity, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating _why_. It had taken all of his energy to just stand on the same court as he did. Akashi was practically a one-man team, from what Furihata had seen. He was an incredible player with unfathomable skill. Why would he quit?

And if Akashi quit, what reason did someone as worthless as him have to keep playing?

It had been a week or so since Kuroko’s text, and even in the midst of practice, he found the thought of Akashi creeping into his head. At first it was strange, to be thinking so often so someone he didn’t know (and that scared him shitless), but by now he’d realized the only other option was thinking about _her_ , so pondering the Rakuzan redhead was a welcome reprieve.

Practice was nearing its end when he saw Izuki point Kuroko’s gaze towards an onlooker seated on the bench. He followed their line of sight, stopping dead in his tracks when he locked onto spiky red hair and matching garnet eyes. The sudden stop caused Kawahara to crash into his back, which in turn caused Furihata to trip and fall face first on the court. The coach sighed and blew her whistle, signaling that practice was over.

“Sorry Furi!” Kawahara apologized. He offered a hand and pulled him off the floor just in time for him to see Kuroko to jog over to Akashi.

“Furihata-kun! What was that fall just now?” Riko demanded. Furihata jumped, feeling more embarrassed than usual, knowing that Akashi was witnessing this, whether he was paying attention or not.

“S-sorry coach, I just--”

“You’ve been slacking lately,” she said, still stern but with a hint of something softening her tone. Was it sympathy? He winced. There was no way she didn’t know what was going on with him. Everybody did. “Go get changed and meet me back out here. I want to talk to you before you leave.”

“Y-yes, coach,” he said, his eyes cast down at his feet. He turned enough to see Akashi and Kuroko speaking. Kuroko nodded at something the other said and took off toward the locker room, leaving Akashi to sit down on the bench again, his hands in his pockets. His eyes slid Furihata’s way.

Panic shot through his entire body as visions of attempted murder by scissors assaulted his brain. He scrambled to get to the locker room, sprinting faster than he had all practice for fear of being left in the gym alone with Akashi. He’d had too many nightmares that started out that way. No way was he going to risk it.

When he stumbled through the door to the locker room out of breath, he only got a couple of odd looks. He made his way to his locker and wrestled it open, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat before he had to have a talk with the coach. Today was quickly shaping up to be awful.

Fukuda shot him a glance, silently asking if he was okay, but didn’t say anything. Furihata was thankful; he knew his friends meant well, but he wasn’t the type to want to talk about his feelings. He started changing, concentrating on getting rid of the dread in his stomach, but it was impossible not to overhear the conversation happening behind him.

“What does he want?” Kagami asked in a hushed voice. At least, for Kagami, it was a hushed voice.

“To talk,” Kuroko replied simply. “It’s very likely that he wants to explain why he is quitting. I have not spoken with him since I received Momoi-san’s text last week.”

“Why did he come to Tokyo just for that?”

“I don’t know. It’s Akashi-san,” Kuroko said, as though that in and of itself was an explanation. They shut their lockers and headed out, their voices diminishing quickly once they left the room. Furihata was more than curious about what Akashi would have to say. He wondered how he could ask Kuroko tomorrow without being too obvious. But even if Akashi told Kuroko, there was no reason for Kuroko to tell him. Those two were friends; he and Akashi weren’t.

He stuffed his dirty practice clothes in his bag and headed back to the gym to face his fate. Coach Riko was standing by the entrance, arms folded, her foot tapping impatiently. A quick sweep of the gym revealed Kuroko and Akashi had already left. The first years were just finishing cleaning up. He approached the coach cautiously, her frown becoming clearer and clearer the closer he got.

“Come with me,” she commanded.

This might be worse than he thought.

She turned and walked outside into the brisk spring sunlight, and Furihata followed. She led them to a nearby vending machine and bought two juices, one of which she threw his way. Furihata eyed it warily. If he hadn’t seen her buy it right in front of him, he would’ve thought it was poisoned. He was still suspicious. He opened it and chanced a sip.

“Furihata-kun,” she said. “I know you've been under a lot of stress lately..."

Oh great. Here it comes.

"But you've been half assing practice since the school year started!" she yelled. Furihata shrunk back, his eyes immediately on his feet.

"You've got potential, Furihata-kun," she continued, a little more calmly. "After Kagami-kun, you've got the most out of all the second years. But you're going to be the worst on the team if you don't get your shit together!"

"Huh?" That was a compliment he wasn't expecting, even if it was directly followed by an insult. "Me? Potential?"

Riko sighed in exasperation. "Yes," she said, taking a sip of her juice. "You've got good observational skills and good reflexes. You’ve got a lot of room to grow. You could be a starter next year, _if_ you work as hard as you usually do." She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not coaching this team for fun. I said it last year, and I'll say it again. If you're not serious about going to nationals, then you shouldn't be on this team."

His eyes widened. "Wh... What are you saying, Coach?"

"That you’re off the team," she said. Furihata felt a stab of panic, but Riko held up a hand before he could start to protest.

"But that's only if you don’t show some effort in the next few weeks," Riko explained. It didn't do much to relieve the unpleasant feeling that was swimming its way through his body. She clapped a hand on his shoulder and stared him in the eyes. "Please think about this seriously."

He stood there, dumbfounded, as she left. He knew the coach was brutal, but this was on an entirely different level. He knew he didn't want to quit the team. They were his friends and, currently, his only escape from everything that was going wrong in his life. But nationals? Did he really care that much? The more he thought about it, he really didn’t. But there was no way Riko would let him stay if he wasn’t going to give it his all.

A cold wind kicked up and he huddled into his jacket. Despite the spring sun, the chill of winter hadn’t yet left the air. He knew he should head home before the sun set, but he had no desire to be around anyone. His friends and family were always there for him, but he was always a disappointment. His girlfriend broke up with him for a better guy, his grades were abysmal, and now he was almost certainly going to be kicked off the team.

_What a loser._

The thought hung heavy in his mind as he trudged his way toward home. His cell phone beeped with unread messages, probably Kawahara and Fukuda asking what happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. He didn’t want to explain the conversation he’d just had with the coach. He knew they’d be optimistic and encouraging, but he didn’t want to he hear it. He didn’t want to hear that he could stay on the team if he just _tried harder._ Easy for them to say. He didn’t have any will left to try. He was tired.

The sun was hanging low in the sky, and the air was rapidly cooling. His feet felt heavy, each step was a chore. Every scuff echoed as _loser, loser, loser_ in his mind. He caught a glimpse of himself in the window of a shop. He looked as terrible as he felt. He kept dragging his feet onward, motivated only by thoughts of his warm bed and the bliss of sleep.

His feet came to a halt in front of the street court that was near his house. He had nothing but good memories here with friends, yet a pang of loneliness hit him. He caught sight of a stray ball left on the court. Instinctively, he threw his things against the wire fence and picked it up. The feel of the ball in his hands was so natural. He hadn’t realized how used to it he’d gotten in the past year.

He stood at the free throw line, dribbling the ball absent mindedly. There was no doubt that he’d miss basketball if he quit. He loved his teammates, and even if he didn’t get to play that often, the mix of anxiety and excitement he felt when he stepped onto the court was exhilarating. The coach’s words replayed in his head. He had _potential_. He could become a _regular_. He looked up at the basket and took a shot.

It missed.

The ball rebounded off the rim with a loud bang and flew over his head. He turned to chase after it, but stopped short, his eyes wide. A figure caught the stray ball, then gracefully moved into a jump shot. The ball soared back over his head and he heard the swish of the net as the ball went in effortlessly. Normally, he would have watched the ball to see if they made the shot, but as soon as he saw who it was, he couldn’t move.

“Good evening,” Akashi Seijuurou said pleasantly.

Furihata let out a mix between a choke and shriek. He’d never been so terrified. He wanted nothing more than to run away screaming, but his feet were glued to the ground. Worse than that, Akashi was standing between him and the only way out of the fenced in enclosure. This was it. He was going to die.

“Forgive me if I startled you,” Akashi said. “I was passing by when I saw you. You’re from Seirin, correct? Number twelve, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Y-y-you know who I am?” Furihata stammered.

The corners of Akashi’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “I do, although I’m afraid I have never learned your name.” He tossed the ball, and Furihata caught it with sweaty palms.

“U-uh, I’m… F-Furihata Kouki.” In a moment of panic, he tossed the ball back. Akashi caught it with ease.

“Akashi Seijuurou,” he replied, as though he actually needed an introduction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Furihata-kun.”

“Y-you too.” Furihata swallowed heavily, his heart hammering in his ears. This wasn’t the psychotic scissor wielding emperor of Rakuzan that he remembered from the Winter Cup. Was it a trap? Was he supposed to get down on his knees and grovel? He only felt more anxious when Akashi spun the ball on his finger and smiled at him.

“Would you like to play a game?”

“Y-y-you’d destroy me,” Furihata said, gaze cast down at his shoes. His sneakers were dirty and worn. He was definitely due for new ones. Akashi’s shoes looked pristine.

Akashi was silent for a moment, dribbling the ball leisurely. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

“H-Huh?!”

“For our game in the Winter Cup,” Akashi continued. “I didn’t take you seriously. I underestimated you.”

“N-No, I’m not very good…” Furihata shifted his weight uncomfortably. Whether Akashi was crazy or not, it was still overwhelming to stand in front of him. He was regal, dressed sharp and professionally, looking more like a successful businessman than a second year in high school. The setting sun provided the perfect lighting to highlight his handsome features. Furihata had a hard time believing Kise was the model in the Generation of Miracles, not Akashi.

He felt pretty insignificant in comparison.

“You’ll never improve with that attitude,” Akashi chided, though the easy smile was still on his face.

“... I don’t think I’ll improve at all,” Furihata said, scratching the back of his head. Standing next to Akashi made him feel the full weight of all his problems. Akashi was rich. He could have any girl he wanted. Kuroko said he was always top of his class. He was great at basketball. He had everything.

He glanced up at Akashi, whose smile had morphed into a slight frown. His crimson eyes bored a hole through him, gazing straight into his soul. He shivered, willing his hands to stop shaking.

“You should not give up before you even try,” Akashi said. “You exhibited much more effort during our game than this. I’m disappointed.”

“Y-yeah, well… A lot has happened since then.” Furihata’s cheeks burned. He had no clue why Akashi was encouraging him, or why disappointing him was so upsetting. He suddenly wanted to explain everything to Akashi, but the thought of venting to him when he didn’t even want to talk to his friends was so surreal it made his head spin.

“Hm. I suppose that’s true.” Akashi turned and shot another basket, the ball flying into the hoop flawlessly. The ball bounced toward Furihata on the rebound, and he caught it. Akashi watched him placidly.

“U-um, Akashi-kun…” Furihata’s voice wavered a little, and he prayed the other didn’t notice. “... Is it true you’re quitting basketball?”

“It is,” the redhead replied.

“But… Why? You’re so good…” Furihata was quickly crumbling under the other’s gaze, but curiosity was getting the best of him. Luckily, Akashi didn’t seem offended by it.

“I made a deal with my father,” he explained, inserting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I would be able to resume my club activities as long as I remained the best at it.” He smiled wistfully. “And I am no longer the best.”

Furihata felt a pang of guilt. “B-but… Isn’t that just quitting when things get tough?”

Akashi chuckled. “Are you sure you’re one to talk?”

Furihata felt an embarrassed blush creep up his neck again.

“Besides, an Akashi is a man of his word,” Akashi continued, tilting his head toward the sky. The sun had set, and night sky was opening above them. “I will miss it, but I believe it is the correct decision.”

“How can it be the right decision?” Furihata asked. He couldn’t believe Akashi was so calm about it. “I thought… Don’t you love basketball? I mean… You could probably go pro someday if you wanted to!”

Akashi laughed. “I appreciate your praise, but you are mistaken. I am to take over my father’s company. He wishes to begin integrating me into the business, in place of my time spent on basketball. It would have happened eventually.”

Something about the situation didn’t sit right with Furihata. He found that his hands were still trembling, but it was no longer from nervousness.

“Y-you know,” Furihata started, gripping the ball a little too tightly. “I, um… I joined the basketball team for a girl… She said she’d go out with me if I was the best at something… But even after we won, it didn’t work out... S-so I kind of know how you feel.” He stole a look at Akashi, expecting a mocking smirk at how pathetic that sounded, but his expression was neutral.

“... I don’t think you should quit, Akashi-kun!” Furihata burst out. “You’re too good to quit! And if you really wanted to, I know you could keep playing!”

Akashi shook his head. “A deal is a deal. My father’s word is absolute.”

“Wh-what about Rakuzan? Don’t they need you?”

“Currently, they have more victories without me than with me,” Akashi replied lightly. “I believe I have left them in good hands.”

An idea crept into Furihata’s head. “B-but… What if they did need you?”

“Oh? Are you saying Seirin is going to beat us again?”

Furihata nodded his head, determined now. “W-we will! We’ll crush Rakuzan this time! And… I won’t just sit by and watch this time! I’ll actually become number one!”

Akashi tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes. “Rakuzan is a formidable opponent. Your confidence is admirable, but you said yourself that you only played basketball for the attention of a girl. Such a reason may be fine for a bench warmer, but it will not hold up on the court. If you truly wish to aid your team, you’ll need a much more concrete motivation than that.”

“Th-then.. I’ll… I’ll do it for you!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Furihata realized what he said. His eyes widened and he dropped the ball to clamp his hands over his mouth.

Akashi’s perfect mask broke for a moment, sheer shock plastered on his face. It was the most expressive Furihata had ever seen him. “You’ll… what?”

He was in too deep to take it back now. He forced his clammy hands away from his mouth, balling them into fists at his side.

“I’ll become number one, but this time for your sake!” Furihata repeated. He was running on pure adrenaline now. There was no way he could say these things otherwise. “I’ll prove that your team needs you! And that you should play again! B-because… If someone like me can become number one, then _you_ can do _anything!_ ”

Akashi recovered his composure, sliding back to an amused smile.

“Interesting,” he said. “It seems I misjudged you once again, Furihata-kun.” He held out his hand. “I look forward to seeing how high you can climb.”

Furihata reached out and took his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Furihata was in class the next week, staring out the window at the clear blue sky, when the full force insanity of what he’d done finally hit him.

The past few days had gone by in a blur. On Sunday, he’d worked up the courage to go visit Riko, and after a brief yet terrifying encounter with her father, he was able to convince her not to kick him off the team. She even agreed to come up with a tougher personal training schedule for him and to work with him after practice.

As usual, she showed no mercy. The following days were exhausting, physically and mentally. Between staying late to practice and beginning the painstaking process of bringing his grades back up, he didn’t have the time to think about anything else. It was all he could do just to make it to bed at the end of the day.

Luckily, the coach never asked him what motivated this sudden change. She probably assumed it was her talk with him, if the smug smirk she had on her face during practice was anything to go on. He never bothered to tell her about the encounter he’d had after that.

That’s when the realization sunk in.

_Wh-what did I…_

The lead on his pencil snapped. His hands started shaking. The guy sitting next to him was giving him weird looks.

He wanted to crawl under his desk and die. He couldn’t believe it actually happened. Not only did those mortifying, embarrassing words actually come out of his mouth, but he said them to _Akashi Seijuurou_. How was he not dead already?

He took a deep breath to force the panic back down. It wasn’t as bad as he was making it out to be. For one, he was getting his life back on track as a result. He had never been one to dwell in depression for too long; he was an optimist by nature. But whether or not this was all actually for Akashi’s sake, or if Akashi was just a convenient excuse, he couldn’t quite say.

He did want to see Akashi play basketball again, that much he was sure of. But the redhead was still a complete mystery to him; perhaps moreso now than before. After all, Akashi hadn’t tried to stab him with scissors -- or worse, laugh at him, like Furihata had expected. Instead, he’d been surprisingly nice, albeit a little sad. Not at all like the egomaniacal emperor he’d faced at the Winter Cup.

And when he’d reached out for Akashi’s hand, it had been just as cold and clammy as his own.

_I’ll do it for you!_

Furihata buried his head in his arms, his face on fire. Those words were already haunting him. He was such a loser.

The lunch bell sounded. It took him a disproportionate amount of time to decide whether he should go eat with his friends like usual, or if he should try to catch up on sleep. His entire body ached from Riko’s new training regime on top of their usual team practices. Today would be no different, either. Extra sleep sounded tempting.

The image of Akashi standing in the fading sunlight, staring forlornly up at the sky crept into his mind.

His head shot up, his heart pounding. Something about that image was incredibly unsettling, and he couldn’t pinpoint the reason why. What was even more unsettling was the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head.

Deciding he didn’t need any dreams involving Akashi at school (or ever, really), he grabbed his lunch and stood up, stretching his sore muscles. With the weather warming each day, he and the other second years of the basketball team had taken to eating together outside at a spot near the gymnasium. He wasn’t in class with any of them this year, but occasionally, he’d catch one of them in the hallway to walk with if he timed it right.

He crossed the room and slid the door open, only to be met with a pair of wide eyes.

Oh no.

His ex.

“Hello, Furihata-kun…” she mumbled, averting her gaze, a slight frown on her face. Furihata felt his stomach twist in unpleasant knots. He didn’t want to notice how pretty her dark eyes were, or how elegant her long black hair was, but it was impossible for him not to. He could still picture her smiling up at him, snowflakes falling gently around her, as he brushed stray strands behind her ear. Last winter felt like an entire lifetime ago, but the wound of it felt fresh.

“H-hey,” he stammered out, gulping down the urge to comment on how nice she looked today, like he used to do daily. She wouldn’t look up at him, and instead her eyes slid past him into the classroom.

“Um… Can you let me through, please?”

“H-huh? Oh!” Furihata snapped from his daze and sidestepped enough to let her through. She mumbled a tiny “thank you” and breezed past him, her familiar scent left in her wake. He watched her pull up a chair to a blonde girl’s desk, her back to him.

He hadn’t thought she was there to see him, but somehow he had hoped she was. The whole exchange took less than a minute, but it threw all of his thoughts into chaos. Waves of conflicting emotions crashed over him, and he realized that he hadn’t thought about her _at all_ since his encounter with Akashi. The whole ordeal had been thrown to the back of his mind, but now she was back at the forefront.

As he turned to leave, his eyes caught with the blonde’s. She winked at him, a devious grin on her face.

Furihata bolted out of the room. He couldn’t have left fast enough. His mind surged with emotion as he dashed through the halls. Anger. Sadness. Nostalgia. Regret. He did all he could to distract himself from her, trying to overlap the thoughts with other things. Basketball. Practice. Akashi.

It didn’t work.

 

The coach’s whistle pierced through the gym, and all the Seirin players breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“I think the coach is actually trying to kill us this year,” Kawahara gasped. He was doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know how you’ve been staying late to practice more, Furi,” Fukuda said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Regular practice is already pushing me to my limit.”

“Well… I did slack off for a while,” Furihata said sheepishly. “I gotta make up for it somehow.”

“You’re insane,” Kawahara said, and Fukuda laughed.

_You have no idea_ , Furihata thought. He wondered, not for the first time, how his friends might react if he told them about his promise to Akashi. Part of him wanted to, if just because the entire thing was so absurd, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He hadn’t seen Akashi since then and had no way of contacting him. It’s not like he had any reason to watch Seirin’s games, either. For all he knew, Akashi had already forgotten all about their encounter. Furihata wasn’t anyone worth noting, after all. He wasn’t going to let that deter him, but it did keep him from telling people about it.

“Furihata-kun!” Coach Riko called from across the gym.

“Good luck, Furi,” Fukuda said with an encouraging smile. Kawahara gave him a thumbs up, and the two of them made their way to the locker room to change. Furihata jogged over to the coach.

“You’ve done really well this past week,” she said with a grin, and gave him an appreciative slap on the back which nearly caused him to collapse. “When you said you wanted to train harder, I didn’t think you’d take it this seriously.”

“Th-thanks, coach,” he said. “... I think.”

“We’ve got some scrims coming up in the next couple of weeks,” Riko continued. “I want to get you on the court as much as possible. If you do well, we’ll be putting you in for official games.”

“R-really?” Furihata asked, his eyes widening. “But… what about Izuki-senpai?”

“He’ll be playing too, of course,” Riko said, her expression turning serious. “But he played in every game last year. He never complained, but I know it took a toll on his body. After what happened with Teppei, I don’t want to risk anyone’s health.” She brightened. “Plus, unless we get a genius point guard first year, you’ll be playing as a regular next year. We have to think about the future of the team, too.”

Furihata nodded, unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face. Riko laughed.

“I’ve got some errands to run today, so I won’t be able to stay late with you,” she said. “You can practice on your own if you want, but rest is important too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I-I think I’ll head home then,” he said. “Thanks again, coach!”

After changing out of his practice clothes, he made his way toward the school gate. In truth, he didn’t feel that tired. Maybe his body had gotten used to the overtime he put in, even though it had only been a little over a week. Going home so early made him feel a little guilty, like he wasn’t working hard enough, but he did have his school work to think of. And since his accidental run in with _her_ earlier in the week, he’d been pushing himself even harder than before. He was due for a break.

He stepped through the school’s gate, peering up and down the street to see if any of his friends were still lingering nearby. He was not prepared for who he saw instead.

“Furihata-kun,” Akashi greeted pleasantly. He was casually leaning against the wall outside the gate, as though waiting for Furihata after school was the most natural thing on the planet. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“A-A-Akashi-kun?!” Furihata screeched. “Wh-what are you doing here!?”

Akashi smiled an infuriatingly perfect smile. “I’m here to see you, Furihata-kun.”

“Wh-what?” Furihata’s face erupted into a million shades of pink. “I-I meant in Tokyo! Don’t you go to school in Kyoto?”

“I do.” Akashi bent down and picked up a basketball that was resting near his feet. “My father’s company has a branch here in Tokyo. He wishes for me to take it over before I succeed him properly, so I am here on the weekends to learn.” He met Furihata’s eyes, the perfect smile still perched on his lips. “Shall we walk?”

“U-uh… Okay.” Furihata was too dumbstruck to decline. When Akashi turned and began to walk, he automatically fell into stride next to him. His legs were moving of their own accord, because if Furihata had any control whatsoever, his knees would’ve given out already.

He stole a glance at Akashi out of the corner of his eye. He was dressed much more casually today, though he still managed to make ordinary clothing look stately. He held the basketball in his hands, spinning it circles every so often, and Furihata was struck by how incredibly ordinary the scene was. To anyone passing by, they would just look like two friends walking home from school together. They wouldn’t know that Furihata was currently shaking in fear of the redhead, or that Akashi was surely deriving some sort of sick twisted pleasure from torturing the brunet, or that the two were barely even acquaintances. Certainly not friends.

_It’s your own fault he’s here, stop blaming him,_ Furihata berated himself. He chewed on his lip, partially in contemplation and partially to keep it from noticeably quivering. It might’ve worked, but when Akashi said his name, he still jumped a full foot in the air.

“Wh-what is it?” he asked. Akashi, to his credit, didn’t laugh at him, though he did look amused.

“I do not mean to keep surprising you,” he assured, and Furihata was torn between relaxing at what was undeniably a charming smile, and tensing up even more. “I had meant to contact you beforehand, but…” Akashi trailed off, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck.

Furihata stared, incredulous. There was no way this was happening. Was Akashi... _nervous?_

“Y-you… You c-could’ve just asked Kuroko for my number,” Furihata offered, feeling emboldened by the other’s sudden timidness.

“I had thought of that,” Akashi admitted. “But I did not want to be so… impersonal. I was not sure if you would want me to have it.”

Furihata laughed nervously. He must be dreaming. There was no way _Akashi Seijuurou_ was _shy_ about asking for his number. Scratch that, there was no way he even _wanted_ his number in the first place. He was so, so very wrong about this scene being ordinary. This was the most unlikely event that could ever occur in an infinite number of parallel universes. And yet, here he was.

“Y-you, uh… I mean…” Furihata dug around in his pocket, producing his cell phone. “Um… What’s your number?”

Maybe he was imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he saw relief cross over Akashi’s face for a moment.

Akashi held out his hand. “May I?”

“O-oh, uh, sure.” He handed his phone over, twitching when their fingers accidentally brushed. Akashi entered his number and sent a text to himself, a notification noise ringing in his pocket. He closed the phone and passed it back, all signs of his uncertainty gone. Furihata shoved his hands in his pockets, wishing he could emulate Akashi’s calm demeanor.

“Thank you, Furihata-kun,” Akashi said. “I appreciate it.”

“Um, s-sure,” Furihata said. “B-but… Uh… Where are we going?”

“The street court we were at last week,” Akashi replied. He held up the ball in his hand. “I thought we could play some one on one.”

“What!? B-but you’ll--”

“Please humor me, Furihata-kun,” Akashi said, and Furihata stopped his stammered protests at the melancholic tone of his voice. “It’s been quite a while since I played.”

“But… Don’t you have anyone to play with? Kuroko or someone from Rakuzan, or…” Furihata trailed off as Akashi slowly shook his head. He wanted to press the issue, insist that surely _someone_ would play with him if he asked, but it didn’t seem like Akashi wanted to talk about it. He knew what that was like.

“W-well… Alright…” he conceded. “But I’m still not very good. It’s only been a week.”

Akashi chuckled under his breath. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way, punctuated only by Furihata’s feet dragging on the ground. By the time they arrived at the court, the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the asphalt. Furihata dropped his bag by the fence, watching as Akashi immediately set to warming up with jump shots and layups. Despite the redhead’s usual stoic mask, it was plain to see how eager he was to play.

“You’ve really missed this, haven’t you?” Furihata asked, stepping next to Akashi as he scored a perfect three pointer.

Akashi only smiled as he retrieved the ball, and passed it over to Furihata. “Are you ready?”

The games went by in a flash. They played to five points five times, and just as Furihata predicted, Akashi won them all effortlessly. He wasn’t sure if his own pride was wounded or saved by the fact that he’d managed to score a single point against him in their final game. He was exhausted and pitifully unskilled next to Akashi, but the redhead didn’t seem to care. He actually looked like he was having _fun._ That was enough to keep Furihata going.

But it could only last so long. Akashi had barely worked up a sweat, and Furihata was completely sapped of energy. He was swaying on his feet, still intent to play, when Akashi held the ball still in his hands. “I think you’ve had enough for today.”

Furihata wanted to protest, and took a step forward to do so, but his legs suddenly felt like jelly beneath him. He stumbled forward, and the only thing that saved him from crashing to the ground was Akashi’s quick reflexes. He grabbed his arm, and it was enough to stabilize his descent, but Furihata ended up on the ground anyways.

“Th-thanks,” he panted, still trying to catch his breath. Akashi lowered himself to sit as well, though much more gracefully than Furihata had managed.

“You seem to have quite the penchant for falling on the court,” Akashi stated, an amused smile on his face.

Furihata’s face would’ve turned bright pink if it wasn’t already flushed from exercise. “I-I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that…”

“On the contrary,” Akashi said, “I wouldn’t have recognized you last week had you not fallen during practice.”

Furihata covered his head with his arms and groaned. “You weren’t supposed to remember that either!”

Akashi laughed. Furihata jerked his head up in surprise, hardly able to believe his ears. He was actually _laughing_. It was a nice sound, clear and resonant, like the ringing of bells. Furihata felt a smile overtake his face, all of the tension melting out of his body. He couldn’t help but join in.

“Jerk,” he joked, grinning. He threw a playful kick at the bottom of Akashi’s shoe.

“Sorry,” Akashi apologized, shoulders still shaking from laughter. “I’m not sure why that was so funny.”

Furihata couldn’t stop smiling now. He hadn’t known how much he wanted to see Akashi happy until it was right in front of him. The melancholy that had surrounded him suited him even less than the totalitarian captain he’d faced last winter. The lonely image of the redhead staring up at the sky was permanently replaced with the scene before him. He was determined, now more than ever, to see Akashi play again.

“How long have you been playing?” Akashi asked, leaning back on his hands leisurely. The sun was behind the horizon, leaving only street lamps to light their world, but they were both perfectly content with sitting in the middle of the court and talking. Nothing outside of that seemed to matter.

“I only started last year,” Furihata answered.

“It’s a shame you didn’t start playing sooner,” Akashi commented. “You have potential.”

“You think?” It was one thing to hear that from Riko, but it was another thing entirely to hear it from an actual prodigy. Furihata stared down at his feet, wondering what he could possibly say to convey the feeling in his chest. He hoped he didn’t disappoint him.

“I rewatched our game from the Winter Cup,” Akashi said. “And your game against Kaijou. You have already come a long way since then. You should give yourself more credit.”

“Wh-what?” Furihata felt a flutter of anxiety resurface. “Why’d you…?”

“Curiosity,” Akashi replied simply, smiling. “How could I not be? I’ve never even received a love confession as brazen as your declaration.”

Furihata blushed a deep shade of scarlet, visible even under the dim streetlights, and Akashi laughed again.

“I’d like to help, if you would let me.”

“But…” Furihata furrowed his brow. “I’m supposed to do this for you.”

Akashi was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I want to see you succeed,” he said quietly, staring down at the basketball that lay at his side. A flicker of _something_ crossed over his features, but it was gone before Furihata could figure out what it was. It was replaced by his usual soft smile, and he pushed himself off the ground. He offered a hand out to Furihata, and again, he took it.

“I will be in town next weekend, if you are available,” Akashi said as he pulled Furihata to his feet.  He swayed, his legs tired still, but he managed to stay upright this time.

“I, uh, yeah,” he answered. “Just text me when.”

Akashi nodded. “It’s late,” he said. “We should both head home.”

“Oh,” Furihata said, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Right.” He picked up his bag, and they both made their way back to the sidewalk along the street. It was time to part ways, but both hesitated to leave.

After a long moment, Akashi broke the silence. “I will see you next week, then,” he said. “Good night, Furihata-kun.”

“W-wait!” Furihata called, a little too loudly. Akashi turned and regarded him curiously. Furihata bit his lip, thinking that this was a stupid thing to hold him up for.

“Y-you can just call me Furi, if you want. That’s… That’s what my friends call me.”

Akashi’s eyes widened a fraction, but he settled into an earnest smile after only a moment.

“Good night... Furi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it takes me so long to write so little. Unfortunately this is probably about as fast as things will get from here on out. The story is actually progressing slower than I expected, but that might pick up in future chapters. Also, much as I usually don't like OC characters in fanfics, this is one of those where they're necessary, especially Furi's ex, for obvious reasons. Her and her friend will show up again. They have names too, I promise. Anyways, thank you to everyone who's still reading, and thank you for all the kind words in the comments! I appreciate it so much. I'll do my best for you guys. I'LL BECOME NUMBER ONE FOR YOU


	3. Chapter 3

In the following weeks, Furihata was amazed to find that Akashi Seijuurou was now genuinely considered his friend.

At times, he’d wonder if this was all some kind of cruel, overly elaborate prank, but those fears were usually quashed by the equally pathetic mindset of _nobody would care that much_. He was a nobody, after all; especially considering the eccentric company he kept as a result of his place on the Seirin team. That only served to make Akashi’s friendship that much stranger.

But Akashi took the friendship seriously, which was arguably the strangest thing of all. Come the end of each week, he would send texts of where they would meet, whether it was at the street court or right outside of Seirin, and he would invariably be there waiting, a basketball in hand. He’d bring drinks and snacks, even going so far as to ask what Furihata liked so that he might bring something “more suitable” next time. He would ask about his day, how his team practice went, and Furihata would meekly reply. He’d never been so overwhelmed by simply talking to another person.

He hated to admit it, but he was too much of a coward to reciprocate Akashi’s questions, and as such, the redhead remained a mystery to him. He was still The Emperor in Furihata’s mind; the picture of perfection, one to be envied and emulated. He had no idea what to say to someone so superior in every imaginable way, and every time an idea popped into his head, it was quickly dismissed as boring or stupid.

It was much easier when they were playing basketball. They could banter back and forth as Akashi taught him tips and tricks, evaluating his skills and helping him improve. At times like those, their disparity in status was obvious, and neither tried to hide it. But when they were off the court and Akashi treated him like an _equal_ , it was too much for him to handle.

Texting was the worst of all. Furihata had thought that, maybe, if he had time to compose his thoughts before saying anything, he might not make a fool of himself. He found instead that he was too terrified to text back anything beyond one word answers, regardless of how long and eloquent Akashi’s messages were.

He dropped his head against his desk, after having received one such text at lunchtime. It was the end of the week, and Akashi wanted to meet that evening. Even though their sessions were supposed to be for his benefit, Akashi always seemed to be the most enthusiastic about them. Well, perhaps 'enthusiastic' was the wrong word. He was as poised and dignified as ever, but from the length of text that was sent, in addition to that soft yet brilliant smile that was always waiting for him after practice, ‘enthusiastic’ was the only word that came to mind.

Furihata read the message over two, three, four times. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reply, but his mind was completely blank. He had known Akashi for nearly a month now, and even if majority of their interaction was limited to one day a week, he should be able to come up with something  better than “okay, see you after practice.”

He was still staring at his phone in despair when a tap on his shoulder startled him enough to send him flying out of his chair.

“Hello, Furihata-kun!” came a cheery singsong voice.

Furihata peered up and realized with mild horror that it was one of _her_ friends. She was cute, with honey brown eyes and dyed blonde pigtails, and Furihata always saw her laughing or talking with someone in class. As far as he could remember, he’d never even spoken to her, but he remembered his run in with her last month. This girl had been there to witness it all.

He had a bad feeling about this.

“Wh-wh-what…” he stammered.

“Please,” she said, smiling widely. “Everyone calls me Natsume. I don’t want you getting all formal on me.”

“U-uh…”

“Who are you texting?” she asked, peering at the phone still clenched in his trembling hands. Her smile turned into a smirk. “Is it a girl?”

“N-no,” Furihata objected. “M-my friend from another school…”

“Someone you know from basketball?” She sat on top of the empty desk next to his and Furihata tried desperately to look at anything other than how short her skirt was.

“H-how did you know…”

“I’m Haruka-chan’s friend. She’s told me all about you,” Natsume replied lightly. Furihata was sweating under her gaze. She could definitely tell how nervous he was, and seemed to be relishing in it. “You have a game tomorrow, right? We were thinking of going to watch.”

Furihata felt like he’d been struck by a lightning bolt of anxiety. “Wh-what!? Wh-why!?” he asked, his voice cracking. He saw the blonde bite back a laugh and cleared his throat, determined to speak at least a little more calmly. “B-Besides, I’m not a starter… Th-there’s no guarantee I’ll even get to play.” He forced himself to relax. It was the truth, after all; even if he’d played in scrims, last week had been their first official game of the Interhigh prelims, and he had stayed on the bench the whole time.

“Hmmm, is that so?” Natsume said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Well then, we’ll just have to come to all of your games until we get to see you play.” Furihata’s eyes widened in horror, causing her to break into a fit of giggles.

“Furihata-kun, you’re too cute!” she said, clutching her stomach from laughter.

Furihata ducked his head down, trying to hide the blush creeping up his neck. “U-um… Natsume-san, w-why are you talking to me?”

The question earned another snicker. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna bother you,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know that Haruka-chan’s gonna be eating lunch in here more often. You should eat with us sometime.”

His stomach flipped. “Wh-why--”

“Trouble in paradise.” She smiled. “Have a good lunch, Furihata-kun!”

Natsume slid off the desk and drifted back to her own. By the time she sat down, Furihata had already sprinted out of the room.

****  
  


“You seem distracted today, Furi,” Akashi observed. “Is everything alright?”

Furihata sighed from his seat on the ground, the chain link fence surrounding the court at his back. The afternoon sun bore down on them with oppressive heat, even though it was only May. He wiped the sweat off his face with the front of his shirt, trying to clear his head. He’d always been the anxious type, but lately it seemed like even the slightest confrontation was enough to send him over the edge. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and no matter how hard Akashi tried to get him to focus on the task at hand, Furihata couldn’t concentrate. He had too many questions, and they were all about _her_.

“I’m fine,” he lied, forcing a smile. The stony look Akashi directed at him indicated that he didn’t believe it in the slightest. He shrank under his gaze. “I-I just… S-something happened at school today, and… I… yeah.”

Akashi sat next to him, their bags taking up the space in between them. “Would you like to talk to about it?”

Furihata lowered his head, staring at the ground. Part of him _did_ want to tell Akashi. He wanted to tell him all about his situation: his ex, her friend, the break up, all of it. Akashi knew nothing about it, after all. It was his only chance to talk to someone that wasn’t fed rumors day in and day out, someone that wouldn’t tiptoe around his feelings like he was about to break. He knew that Akashi would probably be patient and listen attentively, but he couldn’t shake the image of the redhead’s handsome face painted with disgust and disappointment at hearing what a coward Furihata had been throughout the whole ordeal.

“N-No thanks,” he mumbled. He didn’t have the heart to look at Akashi, too afraid he’d see the disappointment in his eyes anyway.

Silence filled the air for a long moment, and Furihata lifted his head cautiously to peer over at his friend. Akashi opened a water bottle and took a long drink, then after a moment’s hesitation, he poured some water over his own head. Furihata snorted back laughter.

“What?” Akashi asked.

“N-Nothing!” Furihata said, waving his hands and trying his hardest to hide his grin.

Akashi smiled at him, then abruptly shook his head, spraying water droplets all over the brunet. Furihata laughed again, reaching for the offending bottle, but Akashi held it back out of reach, biting back a smile of his own. Their brief struggle ended when Furihata accidentally swatted the bottle, splashing the remainder of the contents on himself. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset, as the cool liquid felt refreshing after all the exertion from exercise. Almost as refreshing as the clear ringing of Akashi’s laugh.

“Do you feel better?” Akashi asked, once they regained some composure.

“Yeah.” Furihata grinned sheepishly. The redhead was still a complete mystery, but apparently he understood Furihata all too well

“If you ever need to talk, I am more than happy to listen,” Akashi told him. Furihata blushed, embarrassed at how transparent he was.

“Thanks,” he replied, wondering not for the first time why Akashi put up with him at all. Surely he had something better to do with his precious free time than babysit a second rate point guard. But Akashi seemed happy to play with him, and especially seemed to enjoy teaching him new things. He hugged his knees to his chest.

“I can see why you were such a good captain,” he commented. Akashi shifted, but said nothing. Furihata felt a stab of panic, thinking he had instantly destroyed the good mood the other had created, but a glance over at Akashi showed him smiling to himself.

“When I’m with you, I miss it the most,” he said, almost dreamily. “I always had a talent for picking out others’ strengths, but I was never any good at aiding them personally.” His eyes met Furihata’s. “You are the exception.”

“Wh-what?” Furihata stammered, shying away from the crimson orbs.

Akashi cocked his head, amused at the response. “I believe it is due to our similar play styles. Then again, we both play the same position, so some similarities are bound to occur,” he added, dismissively. He stood up and extended a hand to Furihata, who took it out of reflex more than anything.

“W-we have similar play styles?” he asked as the other helped him to his feet.

“I believe so,” Akashi said. “You’re able to look beyond the obvious. You see not only the next play, but the one after that as well. There is always a correct move, and you only pass once you’ve found it. The court is a battlefield, and you are the tactician.”

Furihata wasn’t sure he had the heart to tell Akashi that his caution on the court was more from fear of being ridiculed or failing than any sort of certainty in his own skills. “But... I’m so slow,” he protested lamely.

“Speed comes with practice. Your manner of thinking is much harder to teach, and thus, much more valuable,” Akashi stated. “I was actually rather impressed by your play in last year’s Winter Cup, once I considered how recently you started playing. Your first game was at a national level, and yet you managed to control the entire court. Your coach must have had a lot of faith in you, and it was not misplaced.”

Furihata felt his face heat up. He wasn’t sure how to accept a compliment from Akashi, who was practically flawless. He didn’t know if he meant it genuinely, or if he was only trying to be nice. How could you compliment someone knowing they were garbage in comparison?

“I-I… I’m not…”

“Furi.” Akashi grabbed his wrist, his mouth drawn into a frown. “You cannot doubt yourself. You will not achieve anything if you don’t believe that you can.” His grip relaxed, and his features softened. “I believe you can, for what it’s worth.”

Shame swallowed Furihata for being so pessimistic. He was supposed to be improving for him, and Akashi was only trying to help. He stared down at the slender fingers grasping his wrist, the touch warm and reassuring. Such close proximity to Akashi might have been the source of a panic attack just a scant few months ago, but now it only held a calming effect.

“... S-so… What do you think I should work on?”

Akashi bloomed into an approving smile, and Furihata felt his heart skip a beat. Maybe it wasn’t as calming as he thought.

“Your fundamentals could use polishing, but are otherwise solid. I believe your coach is doing plenty to guide you on that level,” Akashi said, letting go of his wrist to pick up his basketball. Furihata’s skin prickled at the loss of warmth. “Your innate talent lies in your ability to control the pace of game. As of right now, you are only able to slow it down, but I believe if you were able to utilize those accurate plays at a faster pace, it would highly benefit your team.”

“Uh… So…. H-how do I do that?”

“Quicker decision making,” Akashi replied simply. “It will take time and practice, but I’m sure you’ll get there.”

Furihata smiled timidly. “I-I can work on that… But I always get nervous on the court and second guess myself. I… don’t do well with crowds.”

Akashi chuckled. “Then perhaps you should begin there. Figure out what it takes to be comfortable on the court. Of course, the more you play, the more you will get used to it. It will get easier with time.”

Furihata was silent a moment, pondering what could possibly relax his frazzled nerves under those bright lights and the expectant stares of spectators. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, awkwardly realizing that there may one thing.

“H-hey, d-do you think you’ll be able to come watch the game?” he asked hesitantly.

“... I’m sorry, Furi,” Akashi said, a slight furrow forming on his brow. “I’m afraid my schedule is full up tomorrow.”

“Th-that’s okay!” Furihata insisted, forcing another smile. “I-it’s… Um… I mean, I don’t even know if I’ll be playing, I know you’re busy, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to come, I’m sure you have better things--”

“Furi.” The stern tone of Akashi’s voice cut his ramble short. “I would love to be there. I will not make it to this one, but I promise I will be there in the future.”

Furihata ducked his head, mentally scolding himself for doubting the redhead yet again. “Y-you promise?”

Akashi smiled. “I promise.”

****  
  


“Furihata-kun, get ready. You’re in.”

They were the words he both dreaded and dreamed of. He sucked in a shaky breath as Fukuda and Kawahara thumped him on the back, giving words of encouragement that were all but drowned out by pounding of his heart in his ears. He pulled off the t-shirt covering his jersey and lifted himself off the bench on shaky legs. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he stepped onto the court, exchanging places with Izuki. He felt his hands trembling, the sweat already beading on his neck under the scorching lights. He was hyper aware of the crowd around him, their murmurs and whispers echoing throughout the gymnasium: all about him, he was sure, and why a team like Seirin would have such a weak player subbed in.

“Furi? You okay?”

Furihata took a deep breath, the scene before him melting away. Instead, he saw a familiar street court in front of him, empty except for a confident redhead giving him a serene smile. If he could face Akashi, the closest thing to perfect the human world had ever known, then he could face anyone with confidence.

He could feel Akashi’s strong presence as though he were there next to him, instructing him what to do in his soothing voice. He saw his smile and heard his ringing laughter, and he remembered why he was standing on the court in the first place.

“Yeah. I’m fine now.”

****  
  


Seirin won, much to Furihata’s relief. He had expected Coach Riko to take him out before the end of the third quarter, but instead ended up playing almost the entirety of the second half of the game. He was sure he had never been this exhausted before, not even after their hellish training camps last summer. The walk to the train station was agonizing, and he found himself lagging behind Fukuda and Kawahara, who would occasionally look back to send him sympathetic yet amused glances.

“Furihata-kun!”

Furihata didn’t even have the energy to yell or shriek in terror as Riko clapped a hand on his shoulder, a wide grin on her face.

“You did really well today,” she complimented. “You’re improving much faster than I expected. Are you doing extra training on your own?”

“U-uh,” he stammered out, too tired to think clearly. “Yeah, I mean, sorta. I, um… I have a friend that’s a point guard too, and he’s been helping me out a little on the weekends.”

Izuki, who was walking a few paces behind them, suddenly gasped. “Does that mean he was giving you… _pointers?”_

Riko groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Izuki, _leave._ ”

The raven haired point guard’s attention was already focused on the small book in his hand, where he was writing the pun down with a satisfied grin. Riko rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Furihata.

“Whatever this friend of yours is doing, he’s doing a good job,” Riko said, giving him an approving thumbs up. “Does he play for a team?”

“Oh, um… He used to,” Furihata replied, quietly. “He quit, though.”

“I see,” she said. “Well, I hope you’ll learn all you can from him. We’re going to need you to replace Izuki, because I might kill him by the end of the year.” She turned her head to glare daggers at the other point guard, who was flipping through his joke book and snickering over the contents.

Furihata heard his phone ring out a notification, just in time to avoid being pulled into Izuki’s recitation of past pun masterpieces. He dug it out of his pocket, expecting a text from Akashi asking how the game went, but his eyes widened in shock at the message he saw.

_Congratulations on your win! You played great today._

It was from _her._

He had forgotten Natsume claiming they would go to his games. No, not forgotten, but rather had hoped it was a bluff or a joke. What was she texting him now for? She had never shown an interest in him playing basketball before, other than his team winning the Winter Cup. He stared at the message, dumbfounded, unsure of what to say or how to respond.

His legs brought him home on autopilot, the excitement of his victory diminished by the single distressing text. He ate and took a bath, all the while contemplating why she had come to watch him. He laid on his bed, thoroughly exhausted both physically and mentally, staring at the message in despair. He jumped when a notification for a new one overrode it.

_How did your game go?_

Akashi. His sweet savior, a blessed distraction. Furihata quickly typed out a reply, recounting the events of the game in more words than he’d ever used while talking to the redhead before. After hitting send, he debated for a long moment, then decided to send another, much shorter message.

My ex texted me after the game.

He laid in silence for a minute, wondering if he should’ve sent that, when his phone ringing startled him into a sitting position. He hit the send button automatically.

“H-hello?”

_“Good evening, Furi. How are you?”_ Akashi’s smooth voice sounded in his ear. Furihata exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“A-Akashi-kun! I’m, um, good, I think,” he replied shakily. He had never been good with talking on phones.

_“I apologize for calling you without warning. I’ve been typing all day and I’m afraid my fingers need a break,”_ he explained.

Furihata laughed nervously, picking at the hem of his pajama pants. “S-so even you get tired sometimes?”

_“I’m only human, Furi. Now, what is this about your ex?”_

Furihata blanched at the question. “W-well, um… I guess it’s kind of a long story.”

_“If you are willing to tell it, I would like to hear it.”_ Akashi’s voice was even and calm on the other end of the line, but Furihata could sense a hidden eagerness to it. He realized it was the first time he’d ever voluntarily opened up to him, and he felt a twinge of guilt at it. He’d never meant to be distant, but he didn’t want to complain and possibly drive Akashi away either.

“W-well, um, her name is Haruka…” Furihata began. “We went to the same middle school, and I only got to know her in my third year. We were both kind of quiet, so we got lumped together by the other people in our class a lot. I-I thought she was really cute, and, well…” The corner of his lips twitched up at the memory. “She was an amazing artist. She was always in the art room in her spare time, painting. I guess that’s what made me like her so much. Everything in my life was so boring, but her paintings were like they were from another world. I-it made me want to get to know her, you know?”

Akashi hummed in agreement. _“The quiet ones certainly are the most interesting.”_

Furihata let out another nervous laugh and continued. “W-well, at the end of the year, I finally worked up the courage to confess. And… She told me that if I became the best at something, she’d consider dating me. A-and that’s how I ended up joining the basketball team, once I got to Seirin. She goes there too.”

_“Hn,”_ Akashi grunted, sounding displeased. _“It sounds like a poor excuse for a rejection.”_

“Probably,” Furihata said, frowning. At the time it hadn’t sounded like one, but in retrospect, he could only see his own naivety for believing her. “She did go out with me though, after we won the Winter Cup. It, uh… It didn’t last very long, though. She started hanging out with this other guy, and, well… I don’t really know what happened there.”

_“What about this text you mentioned?”_

“O-oh!” Furihata exclaimed, having forgotten all about it. He was silently thankful Akashi decided to call him instead of text him, because now there was no possible temptation to text her back between replies and make a fool of himself. “W-well her friend said during lunch yesterday that they were going to come watch me play, and I guess they did, because Haruka-cha… I-I mean, Haruka texted me after and said I played well. And, well, I-I don’t really know what to do about it. Should I message her back? What do I say?”

Akashi was silent for a moment. _“Do you still have feelings for her?”_

“Wh-what?” Furihata breathed. “I-I haven’t even thought about that. I’ve just been trying to avoid her since she broke up with me…”

_“That sounds like a wise course of action from what you’ve told me,”_ Akashi commented.

“... Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Furihata asked. The topic had certainly never come up, but he couldn’t see how someone as perfect as Akashi couldn’t have dated anyone before. He probably even had his own fanclub.

Akashi chuckled, the phone muffling his voice with static slightly. _“No, I’m afraid I’ve never had the time for a relationship.”_

“R-really?” Furihata was stunned. “Nobody? Haven’t you ever liked someone?”

_“Certainly,”_ Akashi admitted. _“I had feelings for my senpai in middle school. I never acted on them, though.”_

Furihata tried to imagine what kind of extraordinary girl could capture the heart of Akashi Seijuurou. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that he would be into older, more mature girls. Whoever caught Akashi’s fancy would have to exude elegance and sophistication.

“Wait. Does that mean you’ve never kissed anyone?”

Akashi laughed again. _“I have. Another senpai of mine, once I entered Rakuzan. There were no feelings involved, though. It was purely… curiosity. Mostly on my part, I will admit.”_

Furihata couldn’t fathom the image Akashi was trying to paint. The thought of Akashi approaching some poor unsuspecting upperclassman and propositioning a makeout session with a letter written in ornate calligraphy was all he could come up with. He snorted.

_“What are you laughing at?”_

“N-Nothing!” Furihata squeaked, deciding to quickly change subjects. “S-so, uh, y-you like older girls then? I-I always found them kind of intimidating…”

The line fell silent once more, long enough that Furihata pulled the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped. It hadn’t.

_“I apologize in advance if this makes you uncomfortable,”_ Akashi said slowly. _“But neither senpai were girls.”_

The words took time to sink in, their meaning dawning on a wide-eyed Furihata long after they’d been said.

“... Oh,” was all he could think to respond with. “B-but, um… I-I don’t mind, r-really! Th-that just took me by… surprise…”

_“Furi, if it truly causes you discomfort, I would rather you be honest with me,”_ Akashi replied, his tone deliberately patient and devoid of emotion. Furihata flushed in embarrassment, realizing that the redhead had just confided something extremely personal, and here he was, acting like an idiot.

“N-no! Akashi-kun, y-you’re my friend, a-and I like…” Was he allowed to say he liked Akashi now? Would he take it the wrong way? What should he say instead? “... I-I like things the way they are, s-so… It doesn’t matter who you like, as long as we’re still friends.”

Akashi laughed quietly. _“Thank you, Furi. It is honestly a relief to hear that.”_

Furihata could hear the smile in his voice, and it caused a smile to creep up on him as well. He relaxed a little, thinking that Akashi somehow seemed a little bit closer to him now; a little bit more human. The mask of perfection was beginning to crack, piece by piece.

_“I apologize, but I’m afraid I must get back to this paperwork, Furi,”_ Akashi sighed, suddenly sounding as exhausted as Furihata felt. _“I still have quite a bit to finish tonight.”_

“Oh! Um, I’m sorry for keeping you,” he said. “B-but, uh… Thanks for talking to me.”

_“It was my pleasure, Furi. I’m always happy to hear from you,”_ Akashi replied. _“And congratulations on your game today, although I cannot say I’m surprised at the result.”_

“Th-thanks,” Furihata repeated. “U-um, good night, and good luck with your paperwork stuff.”

_“Thank you, Furi. Good night.”_

He ended the call and tossed his phone aside, opting to fall face down into his pillow. If he was exhausted before, he was ready to drop dead now. The conversation with Akashi played through his head again and again. All thoughts of his ex had flown from his mind, replaced instead by thoughts of who the senpai that had captured Akashi’s attention could possibly be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AW YEAH MAN LONG CHAPTER HERE'S SOME NOTES  
> \- So Furi's ex is named Haruka and her friend is named Natsume. I debated over naming Haruka that because KnB obviously has a lot of crossover fans with Free, but the thought of Furi dating a female Haru was too hilarious so I had to keep it. Neither have last names, because I'm lazy. Bonus points: can you guess the super obvious naming pattern?  
> \- Is my subtle love for Riko showing here? I am a serious believer that she canonly has a lot of faith in Furi, and she's definitely one of my favorite characters.  
> \- If you think Akashi talking about Furi's skills is total bullshit, you would be correct. my basketball knowledge is minimal and I'm going more for the insanely unrealistic shounen manga approach  
> \- Yes this entire story was written so I could make that Izuki pun #noregrets
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me, guys! Your comments and kudos are immensely flattering and appreciated, I suck at responding but every single one puts a huge smile on my face! And a double thank you to all the other awesome Akafuri writers out there, everything that you guys write inspires and motivates me to write as well! Lastly, I'm on tumblr as heema-wren if anyone wants to drop by and say hi, though there's not much there yet. (you will get to laugh at my tumblr illiteracy though)
> 
> Next chapter will be from Akashi's pov!


	4. Chapter 4

Thunder crashed in the distance, and the sky opened above them.

Akashi stopped short, peering upwards as the rain began to pour. In front of him, Furihata mirrored his motion, and within seconds they were both thoroughly soaked.

“Crap!” Furihata exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic. “My notes!”

Akashi watched as the brunet scurried across the court, tripping over his feet as he ran, to snatch their bags up from their place against the fence. He allowed himself an amused smirk at his friend’s reaction. Furihata was quite possibly the most skittish creature to have ever graced the planet, which had taken some time for Akashi to become accustomed to, but somewhere along the line, it had evolved into an endearing trait. Now that he was well acquainted with Furihata, he knew it to simply be an integral part of his character.

“Akashi! What are you just standing there for!? Come on!” Furihata grabbed his wrist, snapping him from his reverie, and pulled him along. They ran for shelter, taking cover under the awning of nearby shop. Furihata dropped both of their bags unceremoniously on the ground, doubled over and panting.

“There was no need to run, Furi,” Akashi commented, ruffling the brunet’s wet locks. “We’re already soaked and you’ve been exerting yourself rather hard today.”

“I-I’m fine!” he stammered, straightening up with a flushed face. Akashi smiled and unzipped his bag. He pulled out a soggy towel and tossed it over Furihata’s head.

“I hope your notes are in better condition than my things,” he stated, frowning at the contents of his bag. There was nothing of importance in it, except perhaps his phone, which a quick survey revealed to be in perfect working condition.

“I was really hoping it wouldn’t rain today,” Furihata said, idly rubbing his hair with the towel. “It looked so clear this morning, and I… I was really looking forward to hanging out with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and Akashi couldn’t help but smile.

He would never admit it to Furihata, but the “free time” he used to spend with him came at a high cost. His schedule while in Tokyo was packed to the brim, leaving no room for any diversions. Of course, this was only true when considering the limitations of an ordinary person, and Akashi was anything but ordinary. His train ride to and from Tokyo was always spent hunched over a laptop or scrolling through his phone, and all nighters quickly became commonplace in order for him to finish schoolwork and get a headstart on looking over business files for the weekend.

It was an impossible, draining schedule, but his time with Furihata was precious. It was well worth the effort.

“It can’t be helped,” Akashi lamented, glaring at the deluge just beyond the awning. “I suppose we’ll have to cut our training session short today. Shall I call my driver to bring you home?”

“A-actually,” Furihata started, fidgeting as he glanced over at him, “Um, my house isn’t far from here… Would… Would you like to come over? A-at least to dry off, I don’t want you catching a cold because of me…”

“Are you sure?” Akashi blurted out. He berated himself for the momentary loss of composure, but it was quickly forgotten as a smile bright as the sun blossomed on his friend’s face.

“O-Of course!” Furihata insisted. “It’s the least I can do-o-o-achoo!” He let out a tremendous sneeze, which was followed by a full body shiver.

“I’m afraid you are the one in danger of a cold, Furi,” Akashi chuckled. “Shall we go?”

To save themselves from drowning in the miserable weather, Akashi found a nearby shop and bought an umbrella just large enough for the two to share. They huddled together underneath it as they walked, their shoulders bumping together every few steps. The close proximity brought a sense of warmth to Akashi, even though Furihata himself was shivering and using the borrowed towel as a blanket to wrap around his arms.

They travelled in a comfortable silence, interrupted only by Furihata’s sporadic directions and the steady fall of rain in the background. The walk was short, and despite the meager protection of the umbrella, they were both cold as ice by the time Furihata flung open the front door.

“I’m home!” he announced loudly, toeing his shoes off. Akashi managed a much quieter, “pardon the intrusion” after him, the words sounding foreign on his tongue.

“Kouki! There you are!” A middle aged woman with familiar mousy brown hair appeared, a basket of laundry at her hip. “You’re completely soaked! What are you--Oh! Who’s this?”

“Akashi, this is my mom,” Furihata introduced. “Mom, this is Akashi Seijuurou, my friend from basketball.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Akashi said, bowing politely.

“So you’re the Akashi-kun my Kouki keeps talking about!” She beamed, tiny crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of her eyes. Furihata dropped his head in his hands and wailed, “Moooom!”

Mrs. Furihata ignored her son. “I’m sorry the house is such a mess, I wasn’t expecting company today!”

Akashi suppressed the urge to laugh at his friend’s misfortune. “Not at all, Mrs. Furihata. Your home is lovely.”

“Such a polite young man!” Mrs. Furihata said approvingly, a cheery smile on her face. “Kouki, I hope you’ll learn from his example. Oh, I’m sorry, please come in! You’ll both catch colds if you stay like that! Kouki, go fetch Akashi-kun some dry clothes to put on! I’ll make you two some tea!”

With that, she waltzed off, leaving the two of them standing in the doorway. Furihata groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Sorry about that…”

“So what do you say about me?” Akashi asked, unable to keep a teasing smirk at bay. Furihata gave him a light punch in the arm, his cheeks still rosy.

“That you’re a jerk,” he responded, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Come on, this way.”

Akashi followed Furihata up a flight of stairs, taking in his surroundings as he went. He couldn’t recall the last time he had gone to a friend’s house. He was used to the cold, empty halls of his overstated house in Kyoto, which only made the warm and cozy interior of Furihata’s home seem alien to him. He could smell the savory scent of a meal cooking downstairs and heard the muted buzz of a television playing. They served as constant reminders of the other occupants of the house. It felt strange, to say the least.

“This is my room,” Furihata stated as he opened a door and flicked on the lights. “It’s probably not as nice as you’re used to but… Make yourself at home.” He gravitated towards a dresser and began digging through the drawers.

Akashi’s gaze wandered around the space, committing every detail to memory. The furnishings were simple and ordinary, exactly what one might expect of a teenage boy’s room. A hastily made bad laid against one wall, adjacent to a sturdy desk with papers and pens scattered on top of it. A small television was tucked into the corner with a game console attached to it. Shelves lined the wall, filled with books and games and models of trains.

Akashi raised a brow at the latter.

“Trains?” he inquired. Furihata’s head jerked up at the word. He followed Akashi’s gaze to the shelf, a hesitant smile adorning his face as he realized the source of the question.

“Y-yeah. My dad used to be a train conductor,” he explained. “He really loved his job, too. He was always into railroad models and memorabilia and I guess I inherited it from him. We built most of those together. It’s been awhile since we made any though, since I started high school I’ve been too busy with basketball, and dad’s always busy with work.”

Akashi tried to picture his own father taking the time to build something with him. “What does your father do now?”

“Oh, uh, he’s a businessman,” Furihata replied, pulling a pair of gray sweatpants out of one drawer before delving into another. “He changed jobs when I was really young and we moved to Tokyo for it. I don’t think he wanted to, but he says he wants my brother and I to get a good education. I always felt kind of bad about it, but I’d like to think I’d put my family first too if I were in his shoes.”

Akashi was silent, thoughts of his own filial duties swirling through his head. Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine his father sacrificing anything for him; only the other way around.

“Here you go!” Furihata announced, pushing a bundle of clothing into his arms. “You can change in the bathroom if you want, it’s right at the top of the stairs. There’s clean towels in there too.”

“Thank you,” Akashi responded absently. He turned and made his way down the hall, closing the bathroom door behind him. It was a small space, but it was clean and tidy.

He peeled off his wet clothes and dried himself with a fresh towel. He looked over the bundle Furihata had given him: soft sweatpants, a plain t-shirt, socks and an obnoxiously bright yellow hoodie. Somehow it seemed fitting for Furihata.

He pulled the socks and sweats on, sighing at the warmth against his damp skin. He slipped the t-shirt over his head, catching a faint but familiar scent. He dismissed it, but was assaulted with it once again when he tugged the hoodie on.

It was Furihata, he realized. The smell was neither good nor bad, but it had a comforting and calming effect on his nerves. He breathed it in slowly, wondering exactly when he’d become so accustomed to Furihata’s close proximity that such an intimate thing had become commonplace. Heat rose to his cheeks as he stalked back down the hall, very keenly aware of the scent that lingered around him.

The cheerful smile Furihata sent his way as he reentered the room did nothing to quell his unsettled nerves. He sat on the floor, soggy papers strewn around him haphazardly.

“My notes survived,” he declared with a grin. Akashi couldn’t stop his own smile (he never could, not when Furihata was near) as he took a seat on the floor next to him. He picked up a piece of paper and scanned over the scrawl that covered the page.

“Is this your writing? I can’t even read this,” he commented, and was rewarded with an elbow to the ribs.

“It’s not that bad,” Furihata defended, snatching the paper away. “I’m just glad they didn’t get completely destroyed. I’ve got a test coming up and I need all the help I can get.”

“I could tutor you,” Akashi offered. He knew he shouldn’t volunteer for something that could be so time consuming, but all that occurred to him was that he would have more reason to spend time with the brunet. That was appealing enough to overturn his senses.

Luckily, or unluckily, Furihata looked down at the papers solemnly. “N-no, I-I couldn’t do that,” he said. “I-I mean… I take up enough of your time, and you’re doing so much to help me, and I’m supposed to be helping you. A-And I don’t want to just rely on you all the time…”

Akashi felt something heavy in his chest. “Furi… Why are you so adamant about helping me? I do not believe I’m in need of it.”

Furihata’s shoulders hunched inward, his head ducked down. “Y-you promise you won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

“W-well, I-I, uh… I… admire you, I guess. N-no, wait, not ‘I guess,’ I do. I admire you.” Furihata’s eyes flicked up to meet his for a brief moment before returning to the floor. Akashi could feel his heart racing. “I-I mean, we play the same position and we’re the same age… B-but you’re so good at everything. You make it look so easy.” He laughed quietly. “Even when I first saw you at the steps with Kuroko, the first thing that popped into my head was that we were the same height… When I looked at similarities like that, I felt like I could do anything you could.”

“The steps?” Akashi’s face contorted as he tried to recall the situation before realization dawned on him. _“That was you?”_

Furihata laughed again, rubbing the back of his flushed neck. “I-I didn’t think you’d remember me,” he confessed, and Akashi felt a wave of shame cover him. That must have been the first time they’d met, and he’d _forgotten_ it. “B-but, even though I was kind of terrified of you at the time… I still thought you were amazing.”

Akashi’s head swam. He didn’t know the words to describe the feeling welling up inside of him.

“And, well, nobody wants to see somebody they admire quit…” Furihata continued. “S-so I thought maybe I should try to be someone for you to admire, or something like that.”

Akashi gripped the fabric of his pants, his knuckles turning white. He tried to suppressed the urge to reach out to Furihata, to touch him, to feel him, to know that he was a real being and not some figment of his imagination. How long had it been since another cared for him so selflessly? His fingers uncurled of their own accord, and he watched his hand extend forward toward the other. Furihata spotted the movement and met his gaze, offering a timid smile that made Akashi’s heart wrench.

A knock on the door snapped them back to reality. Furihata jumped and toppled over, and Akashi blinked a few times, the haze in his mind subsiding.

“Sorry to interrupt!” Mrs. Furihata chirped. “I brought you boys some tea.”

“O-oh, thanks, Mom,” Furihata said, rising to take the tray from her. He offered a cup to Akashi and took the other for himself, setting the tray that held a steaming teapot down between them.

“Akashi-kun, dinner will be ready in about an hour. Would you like to stay and eat with us?” Mrs. Furihata asked, smiling kindly.

“I apologize, but I should leave soon,” he replied, trying to ignore the frown on Furihata’s face. “I have quite a lot I must do tonight.”

“Just stay for dinner, Akashi,” Furihata said, nudging him with his toe. “I know you’re just going to get something from the convenience store if you don’t.”

“What?” Mrs. Furihata asked, eyebrows raising. “Akashi-kun, you’re a growing boy! You need to eat a proper meal! You must stay, I insist. I won’t take no for an answer!”

The words made the corners of Akashi’s mouth tug upwards. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to him like that. And it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to stay.

“If you insist, Mrs. Furihata. I would love to stay,” he conceded, and he was met with twin sunny smiles from both Furihatas.

“Wonderful! I’ll let you two know when it’s ready!” She offered one last smile, then turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Furihata let out a long sigh. “Sorry,” he said again. ”She’s always like that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Akashi replied, leaning back against the side of the bed. “It’s refreshing, honestly.”

“So… What do you want to do?” Furihata slid back next to him, leaving enough room between them not to touch, but Akashi could still feel the heat radiating off of him. He breathed in slowly, the grassy aroma of his tea mixing with the lingering scent that clung to his clothes. Outside, the rain continued to pour relentlessly, a background static that lulled his eyes closed.

Having the option of doing whatever he desired was rare. He could count on one hand how many times in his life he’d encountered it, and each time it left him bewildered. He only knew how to push forward, how to tackle tasks placed in front of him. Even his sleep was regimented; not a time for relaxation so much as a necessity he must undergo before taking on his next goal. To sit idly at a friend’s house drinking tea was a luxury unheard of.

“A-Akashi?”

His eyes snapped open as he realized his head was resting on Furihata’s shoulder. He jerked back, his face red. “Furi, I apologize, I--”

“N-no, I don’t mind,” Furihata reassured, the tinge of pink on his own cheeks unmistakable, “but… If you’re that tired, maybe you should take a nap.”

His heart thumped loudly at the thought of sleeping in his friend’s bed. “No, I couldn’t, it would be rude--”

“I-I really don’t mind!” Furihata insisted. “I know you’re always really busy, but you always make time for me… I feel bad that I didn’t realize how tired you were.” He sulked, and Akashi could feel his resolve wavering at the pitiful expression on his face.

“We don’t have many opportunities like this to spend together. It seems… wasteful to spend it sleeping.”

“Don’t be silly.” Furihata’s smile was quickly becoming one of his favorite sights. “There’s always next weekend, right? A-and we don’t have to do training stuff all the time… D-don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate it, but if you ever want to just hang out or something… I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d like that.” Akashi peered up at the bed behind him. Sleep certainly did sound inviting. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Furihata laughed. “Go ahead, sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Akashi climbed up onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. He laid his head on Furihata’s pillow, which smelled of him even more strongly than his clothing. He wondered how he’d ever fall asleep with his heart fluttering so rapidly, but his eyes were closing again after only a few deep breaths. Perhaps he could blame his drowsiness on the warm atmosphere or the rhythmic patter of rain outside, but part of him knew the tranquility he felt had very much to do with Furihata being nearby, close enough to touch.

He dreamt of sunshine.

****  
  
  


The day ended far too quickly for Akashi’s liking. It had taken ten full minutes of tugging and pulling from Furihata to remove him from the sweet comfort of the bed. The Furihata family dinner had been interesting, to say the least; between Mrs. Furihata’s never ending supply of embarrassing questions and Furihata’s constant bickering with his elder brother, Akashi hadn’t had a meal so entertaining since his days at Teikou. His friend’s father had been absent due to working late, which was cited as though it was a common occurrence. After dinner, Furihata’s brother had challenged him to shogi (and lost spectacularly, much to Furihata’s delight) and Mrs. Furihata had given him a bento made from leftovers, insisting he come to eat with them again.

He stood outside next to Furihata in silence, sheltered from the still descending rain by the porch roof. His driver would arrive to pick him up soon, and take him back to his cold, empty apartment. Staying over so late had pushed his schedule back significantly. He had a long night ahead of him.

“A-Akashi?” Furihata’s voice wavered. “Are you okay? You seem really out of it tonight.”

“I’m fine, Furi,” he lied, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that screamed otherwise. “I’m simply tired.”

Furihata shifted his weight, his brows knit together. “Akashi… If anything’s wrong, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

Akashi frowned. “Nothing is wrong, Furi. I assure you.”

“Y-you don’t have to lie, Akashi,” Furihata said, stepping closer to him. “I may not be the smartest, but I know you well enough to see that something’s going on.” He paused, the steady drizzle filling in the silence. “Are you mad at me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Akashi scoffed. He’d never heard anything more absurd in his life. “What would possibly make you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Furihata sighed, defeat in his voice. “I-I want to help you. I know there probably isn’t much I can do, but…. Won’t you at least talk to me? You didn’t even tell me you were tired today, and you slept like you hadn’t in weeks.”

“Furi…” Guilt overtook him at seeing such a morose expression on Furihata’s face. He reached out for his hand, his fingers brushing over knuckles briefly before the brunet jerked away from the touch. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Furi replied. “Just… talk to me.”

Akashi hesitated, not knowing where to begin. “I… am not accustomed to family situations such as yours,” he admitted. “I am not close with my father, and I lost my mother when I was young. It has been a long time since I was doted over in such a manner, especially in your mother’s case. She reminds me very much of my own.” He paused, then quietly added, “I am envious.”

“Akashi…” Furihata smiled shyly. “You know, you’re always welcome here. My mom already loves you and I don’t think my brother will be happy until he beats you in shogi.” He laughed breathily. “Although that probably won’t happen. Ever.”

Akashi chuckled, warmth spreading through his bones at the invitation. “Thank you, Furi. You’ve already done more than you realize.”

Even in the dim porchlight, he could spot Furihata’s cheeks flush happily. “Um… There is one more thing I was wondering.”

“What is it?”

“U-um… W-why is it that you can’t play basketball with anyone else? I-I don’t mind that it’s just us or anything, but you made it sound like none of your friends wanted to play with you…”

Another shadow of guilt cast over his mind. “If I am to be honest,” Akashi said slowly, “it is because you are the only one who is aware of the circumstances.”

“What?” Furihata asked, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“When I announced that I quit, I told everyone that it was of my own accord. You are the only one who knows it was enforced by my father’s hand.” His mouth twitched downwards. “I had no desire to lie to them, but they accepted it much more readily when I said it was on my own terms.”

Furihata stared, his mouth agape. “But… Why did you tell me? I didn’t even know you then!”

Akashi shrugged, not entirely sure of the answer himself. “I had wanted to tell someone. Perhaps it was easier to divulge the information to a stranger, than to be needlessly pitied by friends.” He laughed under his breath. “I hadn’t expected you to ask in the first place, much less react the way that you did.”

The image of Furihata standing in the stark streetlights, his hand gripped in his, determination set onto his features was forever branded into Akashi’s mind. The memory brought a smile to his lips.

“Have you talked with any of them since then?” Furihata asked quietly, his eyes wide.

“I’m afraid not,” Akashi admitted, his smile turning wistful. “I was never particularly close with anyone in the first place. Without basketball as a common factor, there is little reason for me to contact them, and vice versa.”

“But…” Furihata began to protest as a sleek black car rolled to a halt in front of the residence. Akashi sighed, not wanting to leave but at the same time resigned to rejoining the world he was born into.

“Do not worry for my sake, Furi,” he chided, reaching up to ruffle the brunet’s hair affectionately. “I’ll be fine. Thank you once again for tonight. I will see you next week.”

“Akashi, wait!”

As he took a step to leave, Furihata grabbed his arm and spun him around, locking him into a tight embrace. Akashi’s senses whirled, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of Furihata that surrounded him. His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Y-you’re not alone, okay?” the brunet whispered, trembling. “I-I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”

As the initial shock wore off, Akashi slid his arms slowly, tentatively, around Furihata’s thin waist, feeling the other’s grip tighten protectively. He buried his face in his shoulder, something warm pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Time stood still, and Akashi hoped it would never start again.

****  
  
  


The next day, Akashi stayed home sick, effectively destroying his perfect attendance, claiming a fever from the rain. His supervisors at the company were understanding, but he was sure his father would scold him once word got through.

There was no fever, of course. Akashi’s health was stellar, and beyond a cold or two, he hadn’t fallen sick any time within recent memory. Regardless, he had never felt more ill than when he had to disentangle himself from Furihata’s arms and drive away. That night had been grossly unproductive, and when he finally gave up on work in favor of sleep, he tossed and turned restlessly.

He couldn’t wait another week to see him.

He made it to the stadium with plenty of time to spare before Seirin’s game started. The yellow hood of Furihata’s hoodie pulled over his head, he found a seat in the stands, anxiously waiting for the players to arrive on the court.

His eyes were trained on the brunet the moment he entered the gymnasium. Even from far away, Furihata’s dazzling smile was unmistakable, and Akashi found his gaze drawn to the bench more often than the game itself. When Furihata was subbed in mid-game, he was mesmerized. He took note of every play, unable to keep a smile at bay whenever he spotted a move he taught him.

Seirin won, eliciting cheers from the players and the crowd alike. Akashi stayed silent, despite the pride swelling within him. He watched Furihata celebrate, his teammates throwing arms around his shoulders, laughing and smiling.

He waited outside the locker room, his phone held tightly in his hand. He hadn’t told Furihata he had gone to the game, and every time he thought of texting him, his mind went blank. Eventually Furihata’s victory text came through, simply declaring We won! but still Akashi couldn’t bring himself to respond. In the end, he watched Furihata leave the locker room, chatting excitedly with a teammate, his eyes constantly flicking back to his phone.

His chest felt tight. His palms were sweaty. His head swam, replaying the night before in his head over and over. Perhaps he truly was sick, because Akashi could not fathom what it was that ailed him, and why Furihata seemed to be the center of it. His smile, his words, and the feeling of his arms locked around him were all he could concentrate on. As loath as he was to admit it, this was not something he could diagnose on his own.

He peered down at his phone again, this time scrolling past Furihata’s number to another. The phone rang four times before the other line picked up, greeting him with an exasperated sigh.

_“What do_ you _want?”_

Akashi smirked, a breathy laugh escaping his lips at the scathing tone.

“It’s been a while, Mayuzumi-san. I need to ask you for a favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a hundred kudos, thank you all so very very much. ;_; This chapter is kind of a different pace, and it was supposed to be more of a short interlude, but I actually ended up having to cut out some of what I had planned, and then it somehow turned into this huge fluff fest and Akashi just turned the gay up to 11, so I don't really know how I feel about it. I hope it's not getting too OOC. Anyhoo, thank you all again for reading, and I'll see you all again soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Akashi scanned the crowd for the fifth time in vain, sighing to himself. Mayuzumi was one of the last people in the world he wanted to locate at a busy venue, and he was conveniently not responding to any messages or calls. _Wonderful._

The semi-finals and subsequent finals for the Tokyo A block were tonight, and Akashi’s stomach fluttered as though he was the one participating. Then again, his stomach had been doing all sorts of strange flips and turns all week, every time a certain brunet crept into his mind. Which, to his dismay, was happening more and more frequently these days.

It was doubly frustrating that he hadn’t seen Furihata since last week, either. He’d been forced to cancel their weekly meeting for the first time last night in order to be able to attend the games tonight. The disappointment in Furihata’s voice when he broke the news was soul crushing; Akashi hoped he never had reason to see or hear his friend so depressed again. At the same time, the melancholy Furihata displayed at not being able to see him caused Akashi’s heart to hammer against his ribcage relentlessly for an entire hour after the phone call had ended.

What in the world was happening to him?

He shook his head, attempting to focus on his current dilemma. He pulled out his phone and called the number yet again, tapping his foot impatiently as it rang. He expected the same outcome as last time, but just as he was about to hang up, the other line picked up.

_“Turn around.”_

Akashi furrowed his brow, obeying confusedly. When he turned, he spotted Mayuzumi not ten feet away, his phone pressed to his ear and a light novel held in his other hand, an amused smirk on his face. Akashi sighed with the assumption that the exchange was about to set the tone for the evening. He wasn’t sure what he expected.

“Mayuzumi-san, how _kind_ of you to join me,” he greeted as he approached, pocketing his phone. He did his best to hide the strain in his voice, but between the uneasy feeling pooling in his stomach and the older teen already trying his nerves, there was no mistaking it.

“It’s the least I can do to repay you for dragging me out here,” Mayuzumi replied. His smirk was quickly replaced with a frown. “And are you going to tell me _why_ we’re here now?”

“No,” Akashi replied curtly. “We’re going to find our seats first. Come.”

He turned and started towards the stadium, but not before catching the look of exasperation that crossed his companion’s face.

He hadn’t seen Mayuzumi since his graduation last March, but the past months hadn’t changed Rakuzan’s phantom man in the slightest. Akashi had counted on that, and was glad his assumption had been correct.

Mayuzumi was not his first choice for a confidant. He would have much preferred Mibuchi or even Midorima, but to tell them of his current situation would mean divulging the details of his resignation from basketball. There was no explaining his friendship with Furihata without it, unless Akashi were to fabricate some long-winded tale that he was bound to contradict later. While he knew he would have to confront that demon someday, the problem of his newfound unease around Furihata was much more immediate. It was considerably quicker to find someone who simply didn’t care if he quit basketball or what the reason behind it was.

In that regard, Mayuzumi was his _only_ choice.

It was far from ideal, considering the complicated nature of their relationship. Calling Mayuzumi a _friend_ implied a closeness between the two that, frankly, wasn’t there. It didn’t help matters that Mayuzumi still harbored a grudge over Akashi’s treatment of him throughout the year they spent together at Rakuzan, despite any apologies Akashi made to him. And there was also that minor complication that occurred on the rooftop near the end of the school year…

Akashi frowned again, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. There was no time to be contemplating that now. He glanced behind him long enough to ensure Mayuzumi was still following him, a bored expression on his face as he shouldered his way through the crowd.

He found seats away from the team cheering sections, not wanting to chance a run in with anyone he knew. The gymnasium was packed to the brim, the air buzzing with excitement at the games to come.

“So? Who are we here to watch?” Mayuzumi crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “Don’t tell me this has something to do with that blue haired brat.”

Akashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “No, Tetsuya has no part in this.”

“Then who?” Mayuzumi sighed. “I really don’t want to play guessing games, Akashi.”

The seats around them filled up as the players entered the court. Akashi’s eyes darted through the line of white Seirin jerseys, searching for the number twelve. It didn’t take him long to spot his friend; the bright smile on his face was a beacon of light amidst a tumultuous sea. He fought to keep his expression neutral, a smile of his own threatening to creep up on him.

“Do you recall our game against Seirin in the Winter Cup last year?” he asked, his eyes still trained on Furihata.

“Nope,” Mayuzumi quipped. “Must’ve not been important.”

Akashi ignored the smart remark. “Do you remember the point guard they subbed in mid-game?”

“The one that fell on his face as soon as he got on the court?”

“Yes,” Akashi responded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “He also scored a basket while you were supposed to be marking him.” He glanced over long enough to see the icy look Mayuzumi sent his way, allowing himself a small smirk.

“Yeah, alright, I remember. What about him?” Mayuzumi questioned, peering down at the players warming up on the court.

“It’s… complicated,” Akashi said, unsure of where to start.

“Complicated? What is he, pregnant with your child?” Mayuzumi asked flatly.

Akashi ignored the remark once more. “We have become quite close in the past few months. He has been improving in hopes of inspiring me to play basketball again.”

Mayuzumi looked unimpressed. “Is this another one of your lame attempts at jokes?”

“I am serious,” Akashi replied, bristling at the other’s dismissal of Furihata’s efforts. “If you don’t believe me, then wait until he plays. Then you will see.”

“More like _if_ he plays,” Mayuzumi muttered.

Akashi resisted the urge to counter. He could always count on Mayuzumi’s brutal honesty when he needed it most, but it was unsettling to hear him speak ill of Furihata. Mayuzumi didn’t know him or what he had accomplished in the past few months, much less did he know what the brunet was capable of achieving. Furihata had exceeded all of his expectations thus far, and tonight would be no different, he was sure.

The game began and predictably, Furihata was left on the bench. It didn’t surprise Akashi in the slightest, given the seniority and skills of the other point guard on the team. He leaned forward in his seat as the teams exchanged baskets, the score remaining neck and neck throughout the first quarter and into the second. His eyes flickered over to the bench several times, Furihata’s enthusiastic cheers tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He didn’t realize how intensely his gaze was concentrated on Furihata until a commotion on the court startled the brunet and the rest of Seirin’s bench onto their feet. He followed their line of sight to the players on the court, crowded around someone on the ground.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Looks like someone got hurt,” Mayuzumi responded disinterestedly. “One of the Seirin players.”

Murmurs flooded through the crowd as the injured player tentatively got to his feet, a hand held to his head. Akashi recognized him as Seirin’s third year point guard, though his name escaped him. He watched as Seirin’s captain helped him off the court, an arm around his back in support. The rest of Seirin clambered around them immediately, obscuring them from Akashi’s view. All he could see was their coach’s stony expression as she assessed the damage. After a brief council, the point guard was escorted out of the gym by one of the benched players.

In the meantime, Furihata stripped off his overshirt and stepped onto the court.

“It looks like you got your wish,” Mayuzumi commented. “The real question is whether he’ll last a full two minutes or not this time.”

“Quiet,” Akashi snapped, narrowing his eyes dangerously. Mayuzumi appeared overall unaffected by the terse reply, but his brows rose in curiosity.

Akashi steeled himself for more wise comments as the game resumed, Furihata now on the court. He didn’t mean to lose his temper, but the subject of his friend was surprisingly sensitive. Thankfully, the older teen stayed silent for the remainder of the second quarter, his focus on the game.

“He’s actually not bad,” Mayuzumi appraised as the court emptied for half time. Akashi glanced over at him with surprise, wondering if he’d heard correctly.

“Is that so?”

“Don’t give me that smug look,” Mayuzumi warned. “I said he’s _not bad._ He’s getting there. He knows how his teammates play and how to work with them. He also seems less terrified than the last time I saw him, which probably helps.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head to inspect Akashi. “I saw a couple of familiar plays from him too.”

“You are correct,” he admitted. “I have done some coaching.”

“Why?” Mayuzumi probed, his brows knitting together. “You said this kid wants to inspire you to play again or whatever, right? So why are you helping him? He can’t do it on his own?”

“Furi is perfectly capable of achieving his goal on his own,” Akashi said, gritting his teeth. There was no need to lose his cool again.

“Did you just call him _Furi?”_ The disbelief in his voice was palpable.

“I told you, we have become close friends,” Akashi reiterated slowly, as though he was speaking to a small child. “He is surprisingly resilient. I have never seen someone work so hard, and certainly no one has ever displayed such effort for my sake before. Is it really so odd for me to find his actions touching?”

A strange look crossed over Mayuzumi’s features. “I never thought I’d say this, but I think I actually prefer the way you were last year.”

Akashi frowned. “Furi has been kind to me despite my behavior during the Winter Cup,” he continued. “He has proven himself to be someone I am comfortable relying on. He is not the weakling I once thought he was.”

“I get the feeling you’re not just referring to basketball anymore,” Mayuzumi ventured, waiting until Akashi offered a reluctant nod to continue. “So what exactly did you want me to see here? Did you just want to show off your shiny new toy to someone, or is it something else?”

“He is not my _toy.”_ Akashi sighed in frustration. “As much as I enjoy his company, recently I have felt… unsettled around him.” He paused, hesitating. Rarely did he feel so insecure, and in those rare instances, Mayuzumi was not the type to pull his punches. “I have had a difficult time speaking with him. The mere thought of it ties my stomach in knots. And yet, I find him constantly on my mind. It is a vicious cycle, and it is wearing on my nerves. I am unsure of what to do.”

Mayuzumi only shook his head in response, a huff of laughter escaping him.

“What are you laughing about?” Akashi demanded. “I am not joking. I do not know what to do and I--”

“You like him,” Mayuzumi said. It was as much an explanation as it was a declaration of disbelief.

Akashi frowned again. “Of course I like him. As I have stated several times already, Furi and I are close--”

“No, you idiot,” Mayuzumi interrupted in exasperation. “You _like_ him. As in _more than a friend._ Are you really that dense?”

Akashi crossed his arms defensively. “I am afraid you are mistaken, Mayuzumi,” he stated. “And I am not _dense,_ as you put it. I have had feelings for another before that exceeded the realm of friendship, and it was nothing like this.”

“Fine, you’re _in love_ with him then,” Mayuzumi conceded, sarcastically. “And who did you ever have _feelings_ for? It wasn’t--” He faltered, his mouth snapping shut as he looked away, a shade of pink dusting his cheeks.

An awkward silence ensued.

“... I apologize,” Akashi offered, breaking the lull. “I do not believe you know that person.”

Mayuzumi ran his fingers through his hair, his cool demeanor mostly restored other than the faint tinge that remained on his face. “It’s fine,” he assured. “I didn’t… Whatever. Anyway, look. I don’t know what you thought was going on, but it’s obvious you like this guy. You can deny it all you want, but it’s not going to change anything.”

Akashi wasn’t convinced, but he had no better guesses to go on and certainly no solutions. “Assuming you are correct, what would you suggest I do?”

“I don’t know,” Mayuzumi replied. “You could always tell him how you feel.”

“And what, precisely, would I tell him?”

Mayuzumi shrugged. “That you’re a loser with a huge crush on him?”

Akashi shut his eyes tightly and massaged his temples, sighing deliberately. “You’re not helping, Mayuzumi.”

“I’m not the one _mooning_ over some kid I just met,” the older teen retorted. “Honestly, Akashi, I’ve never seen a crush this glaringly obvious. Maybe in books, but that’s it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already guessed how you feel.”

Akashi felt a stab of panic at that. Furihata was rather observant, though perhaps not as much so as Mayuzumi. And yet, what was there to be afraid of? He wasn’t even sure of his own feelings. He wanted to scoff at the ridiculousness of him being interested in his friend romantically, but the way his heart beat faster at the memory of Furihata’s arms encircled tightly around him made him realize that he couldn’t completely dismiss the possibility.

“What if I don’t _want_ to have feelings for him?” he asked helplessly. “He’s the best thing that has happened to me in a long time. I don’t want to…” He trailed off as Mayuzumi rolled his eyes.

“Tough shit,” he said. “You don’t get to choose who you like.” He looked away, his cold exterior melting for a moment. “It sucks, I know.”

The teams reentered the arena, signaling the end of half time. Akashi immediately sought out Furihata, Mayuzumi’s diagnosis ringing in his ears. He could see two of his teammates at his side giving playful pushes and encouraging smiles, and Akashi felt a pang of jealousy, wishing he could be down there with him.

The second half of the game passed by in a haze, Akashi’s mind reeling with too many thoughts at once. When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd around them erupted in cheers for Seirin’s victory. Akashi and Mayuzumi were both silent amidst the deafening roar.

“Let’s go,” Mayuzumi declared, rising from his seat.

“Go? Where?”

“To see your boyfriend,” the older teen declared, tugging the younger along.

Akashi’s eyes widened. “What? Mayuzumi, no!”

“You dragged me out here,” Mayuzumi replied. “It’s only fair I get to return the favor.”

“Wait! Mayuzumi! Stop this nonsense!” Akashi protested. He resisted, but Mayuzumi was persistent, his grip like a vice as he pulled him through the throngs of people. Akashi stumbled along behind him, trying his best to avoid crashing into strangers whilst attempting to break free Mayuzumi’s grasp. He was so focused on escaping that he slammed into the other’s back when he stopped short, just outside of the locker room.

“What are you doing?” Akashi growled, rubbing his sore nose.

“Looks you’re not the only one interested,” Mayuzumi replied nonchalantly, motioning ahead. Akashi frowned, peering around the taller teen suspiciously. He was greeted by the sight of Furihata, his face flushed from exertion and beads of sweat still clinging to strands of his hair, a nervous smile perched on his lips. The source of his discomfort appeared to be a pair of girls crowding around him, one with long dark hair and another with blonde pigtails.

The blonde chattered on excitedly, while the other girl hung back, a delicate blush painting her pale face. Furihata’s eyes were locked only on her as he stammered out responses, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. Akashi’s frown turned into a scowl.

**Talk to him.**

The mere thought make his throat go dry, his inner turmoil increasing tenfold. What if Furihata didn’t want to see him? What if he interrupted something important and Furihata got upset at him for it? And yet, as he watched the dark haired girl reach out and gently touch the brunet’s arm, he felt his insides churn violently.

“I’m not going over there.”

Mayuzumi raised a brow. “I didn’t say anything, Akashi.”

**If you don’t do something, I will.**

He watched helplessly as Furihata’s already flushed face turn a darker shade of red. His hands balled into fists. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re asking me?” Mayuzumi inquired. He sighed, grabbing Akashi’s wrist once again. “You’re hopeless, you know.”

Before Akashi knew what was happening, Mayuzumi was pulling him closer and closer to the spectacle that laid before them. By the time it occurred to him to oppose the grip on his arm, Mayuzumi had pushed him into the back of the brunet. Furihata jumped with a surprised yelp.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t--” Chocolate brown eyes widened as they met ruby ones. “A-Akashi!”

Perhaps it was the nervousness that plagued him for the past week, but he was not at all prepared for Furihata to react by throwing his arms around him and squeezing him tightly. He pulled away only a moment later, smiling apologetically.

“Sorry, I’m all sweaty, I just… I didn’t think you’d be here!” His smile was blinding. Akashi could feel his his pulse quickening every second he lingered on it.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Akashi lied, the steadiness of his own voice amazing him. “You played very well.”

“Y-you think?” Furihata asked excitedly. “I-I was really nervous, I wasn’t expecting to have to sub in for Izuki-senpai. And now I have to play the full game in the finals!” He smiled shakily. “I’m so glad you’re here. I always feel better when you’re around.”

The warmth in Furihata’s voice made Akashi’s chest feel tight. He swallowed dryly, trying to force words of gratitude out of his mouth. Instead, they were interrupted by a cough at their side.

Akashi turned to regard the two girls that had been fawning over his friend. He had nearly forgotten they were there. A quick sweep of the area revealed Mayuzumi had left entirely, no doubt capitalizing on his ghost-like presence to disappear into the crowd unnoticed.

“Furihata-kun, aren’t you going to introduce us?” the blonde girl asked.

“O-oh, u-um…” Furihata stammered, fidgeting. Akashi could see his hands trembling as his eyes met the dark haired girls’ again. Something snapped within Akashi at the sight, and without a second thought, he reached out and took hold of his friend’s hand.

“I apologize,” Akashi said with a slight bow. “But I must speak with Furi alone. Please excuse us.”

He pulled Furihata along behind him, and noted that he was much less resistant to being led around than he had been for Mayuzumi. He felt an inkling of guilt at the thought of leaving the older teen, but figured his disappearance was probably calculated and that he was glad to leave on his own terms.

He halted, briefly checking behind them to see if the girls had followed. Furihata exhaled a long sigh.

“Th-thanks,” he said. “I really wanted to get out of there.”

“Who were they?” Akashi asked, suddenly very aware that he still had Furihata’s hand clenched in his. The brunet made no move to let go though, so neither did he.

“My ex and her friend,” Furihata admitted, his eyes trained on the floor. “I-I just… I don’t know why they keep talking to me. They always try to invite me to lunch and hang out with me after practice, too. They keep coming to my games, too. I mean… She broke up with me, right?” He squeezed Akashi’s hand, and out of instinct, Akashi squeezed back. “I just want to move on.”

“I’m sorry, Furi,” Akashi said, floundering for the correct words to say, the warmth of the hand in his the only thing occupying his thoughts. “Is there anything I can do?”

Furihata smiled, but shook his head. “No, I think I’ve just gotta suck it up and tell them to leave me alone,” he said. He paused, then added, “b-but why do girls have to be so hard to talk to?”

Akashi chuckled. “If you were able to ask her out not once, but twice, then surely asking for space shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.”

“You make it sound so easy!” Furihata groaned, and Akashi laughed again. His unease was subsiding every moment he spent in the company of the brunet, but it still left a giddy, bubbly feeling in its wake that was completely alien to him. He was starting to get used to it; perhaps even like it.

“Are you here with anyone?” he asked.

“I was,” Akashi admitted. “I asked my senpai to join me, but I’m afraid I may have lost him.”

“I-If you guys want, you could come sit with Seirin to watch the next game,” Furihata offered. “I-I mean, you could even talk to Kuroko if you wanted to, and I know a couple of your other friends are…”

“I’m sorry,” Akashi interrupted. “I’m not quite ready for that yet.”

“O-Oh,” Furihata replied dumbly, his hand slipping away. He was silent a moment, then offered a hesitant smile. “But… You’ll still stay and watch, right?”

“Of course, Furi. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he promised, his chest filling at the widening grin on Furihata’s face.

“O-Okay, good!” the brunet said. “B-But, I’ve gotta go check on Izuki-senpai before the next game starts… Will you be around after the finals are over?”

“I’m afraid not,” Akashi replied. “But we can celebrate your victory next week.” He ruffled Furihata’s hair, causing the brunet to laugh.

“We haven’t won yet!”

“But you will,” he assured. Furihata tugged him into a fierce hug once again, leaving Akashi dizzy once he pulled away.

“Thanks, Akashi! I won’t let you down!” the brunet called as he left. “Remember, this is for you!”

In the end, Furihata played better than Akashi had ever seen, and Seirin secured their victory by a landslide. Akashi watched alone from the stands, heart was pounding louder than ever.

****  
  
  


“Two _weeks!?”_

Every Seirin player winced at the ferocity of Coach Riko’s roar. Furihata took several deep breaths, his hand over his rapidly beating heart. He was on edge enough lately, he didn’t need the coach giving him a heart attack too.

“I’m sorry, Coach,” Izuki apologized, pointing at the stitches above his right brow. “The doctor said two weeks to heal, so no games until then. I’ll be getting them out this weekend though!”

Riko pinched the bridge of her nose. “What kind of idiot gets stitches while playing basketball? There’s not even anything sharp to cut yourself on!”

“Just be thankful I didn’t tell any jokes on the court,” Izuki responded cheerily. “Otherwise the rest of the team would be _in stitches_ too!”

“You’re gonna be in a full body cast when I’m done with you, Izuki!” she growled. Hyuuga restrained her, which was probably the only thing that kept the third year point guard from being ripped to pieces.

“Furihata-kun!” she barked, sending a bolt of anxiety through Furihata’s spine.

“Y-Yes, coach?”

“You’ll have to play in the final league,” she said, then sighed heavily. “Two of our opponents will be Touou and Shutoku, so you’ll have to go against the Generation of Miracles. Make sure you’re prepared.”

“I-I, uh… I think I’ll be fine, coach,” he professed, feeling more confident than he sounded, for once. Riko regarded him with surprise, but nodded her head.

“Good,” she declared. “Play like you did in the prelim finals and we’ll be fine.” She blew her pink whistle, the sound reverberating sharply through the gym. “Alright guys, practice is over!”

Furihata changed quickly and ran out of the locker room, eager to end his school day. Akashi had promised they’d celebrate Seirin advancing to final league, and Furihata had spent the entire week missing the redhead’s company. He’d barely had a chance to see him last week, and it made him realize just how much he’d come to enjoy spending time with him.

He tried to suppress the smile on his face as he ran through the school gate, searching for the telltale sign of red hair waiting nearby.

“Ah, Kouki. There you are.”

Furihata stopped short, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

The unlikely trio of Natsume, Haruka and Akashi stood waiting for him. Natsume smiled brightly, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, whilst Haruka hung back, long locks of raven hair obscuring her face.

Akashi stood in front of them, a manic smile plastered on his face. His eyes gleamed in the afternoon sunlight: one crimson, the other gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yes, that's right. Bokushi is here to throw down. Also, the stitches thing is based on something that actually happened to my (extremely accident prone) brother when he was playing basketball. He was even a point guard. I also cannot resist the opportunity to make horrible Izuki puns.  
> Once again, thank you so very much to everyone that has read this and left comments/kudos! I love you all so much, I can't even express it ;A; I'm sorry this chapter was a bit underwhelming, but it is something of a filler chapter. I had fun with Mayuaka though, so I hope that was enjoyable for you all at least. Hoping the next chapter will be more interesting! Thank you all again!


	6. Chapter 6

There are two Akashi Seijuurous.

Furihata knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind. He remembered what Kuroko had told him months and months ago. He hadn’t known Akashi back then, so he’d only had Kuroko’s word to go on. Certainly, the Akashi he had come to know was different than the one he faced in the Winter Cup, but Furihata had never really considered the reason behind that until now.

The Akashi that stood in front of him was not the Akashi he knew. His gestures, his manner of speaking, even the aura that surrounded him were all completely different, and yet he was still undeniably the same person. It was eerie to see such a familiar sight accompanied by a foreign feeling, as though he was walking through his home after another person had moved in.

He bit his lip, trying to steel his nerves. He was in no way prepared to deal with this sudden switch, much less with an audience looking on. He could feel his hands beginning to tremble.

“H-H-Hey…” he stammered out, his gaze flitting from Akashi-who-wasn’t-Akashi to the girls that stood behind him. “Wh-what’s going on…?”

“These two were waiting for you when I arrived.” Akashi’s grin was a fraction too wide for Furihata’s liking. “It would be rude of me to steal your attention away before they spoke with you.” He turned to face them, and Furihata was glad for a moment of reprieve from that intense stare.

“Well, Haruka-chan? Go ahead!” Natsume prodded, nudging her friend forward. If the look on her face was any clue, Haruka was just terrified of Akashi as Furihata had been at their first meeting. Her eyes were blown wide in terror and her hands visibly trembled. She probably wanted nothing more than to go home right that moment.

He couldn’t quite say he felt bad for her, but he could definitely empathize.

“U-um,” the dark haired girl started. She was clearly trying to focus her gaze on him, but Akashi’s presence was overwhelming, now more so than it had ever been before. “F-Furihata-kun, do you… That is to say… Since you played so well… Um…” She glanced over at Natsume desperately, but her friend just smiled cheerily. “W-Would you like to get something to eat? And… maybe we could talk?”

Before Furihata could even digest the words, Akashi was at his side, placing a hand on his arm. He jumped from the contact, every nerve in his body screaming.

“I must apologize, but I’m afraid I’ve already made plans with Kouki today,” Akashi responded smoothly. Furihata’s ears pricked up at how he was addressed. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it today, but _why_ was he doing it? He was sure it had something to do with the other Akashi being in control, but beyond that, he was stumped.

“O-Oh,” Haruka conceded lamely, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Well then… Maybe another time? J-just you and I, Furihata-kun?” She peered up at Furihata shyly, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

_No, no, no, remember what she did!_ he scolded himself. As though sensing his inner turmoil, Akashi tightened the grip on his arm almost possessively. The intensity that radiated off of him was staggering, enough to make Furihata’s knees feel weak. He remembered why he’d been so afraid of the redhead in the first place.

“Don’t be foolish,” Akashi stated, his voice perfectly eloquent and sharp as a knife. “Why don’t we all celebrate together?”

Furihata’s mind went into panic overdrive. He didn’t want to spend time alone with his ex-girlfriend, and he also had no desire to spend time with the borderline psychotic version of his friend that was currently squeezing his arm tight enough to make it go numb. Needless to say, the very last thing in the world he wanted to do was accomodate both of them _at the same time._ He gaped at Akashi, his mouth opening and closing, unable to dictate any of protests that screamed in his brain.

“We would love to!” Natsume accepted, slinging an arm around Haruka’s shoulders, completely oblivious to the dark haired girl’s mortified expression.

“Excellent,” Akashi appraised, a grin that looked suspiciously sadistic spreading across his face. Furihata gulped, wondering if he could get out of this ordeal if he fainted. Probably not. “I know the perfect place for just such an occasion. Please, follow me.”

_This_ Akashi managed to make the polite invitation sound like an order. An order that merited dire consequences if disobeyed, no less. Even after being released from his vice grip, Furihata felt himself compelled to stay in stride with the redhead despite his desperate desire to run as far away as possible. He could hear shuffling behind him as Natsume pushed a reluctant Haruka forward, the blonde seeming to delight in all that had transpired.

“You have been awfully quiet today,” Akashi observed as they walked. The shift in focus was enough to send Furihata’s anxiety levels back through the roof.

“I-I-I, u-uh…”

Akashi frowned, but rather than looking upset as the Akashi he knew would look wearing the same expression, _this_ Akashi gave the impression that all was not well within his kingdom, and heads would roll when he found out why. He reached out to take his wrist, but on instinct Furihata jerked back and skittered away at the slightest hint of contact.

“Kouki…”

Furihata felt a pang in his chest at the melancholy tone. He cautiously met Akashi’s mismatched eyes, unprepared to see the look of hurt held in them.

Suddenly, he felt ashamed of himself. Intimidating emperor or not, Akashi was still Akashi. And he was _supposed_ to be Akashi’s friend.

“I-I’m sorry!” he babbled quickly, grabbing onto Akashi’s wrist, hoping it might repair some of the damage done. “I-I just… You’re… Um…”

“What are you two whispering about, hmmm?” Natsume popped between them, an arm on both of their shoulders. As annoyed as Furihata was at the interruption (and, admittedly, partially because she was as tall as him) he couldn’t help but worry for her well-being at the way Akashi’s eyes flashed.

“N-Nothing,” Furihata said.

“You two seem close,” she commented, her eyes wandering down to Furihata’s grasp on the other’s wrist. He blushed and dropped it as discreetly as possible, but judging by Natsume’s smirk, she didn’t miss a thing.

“We are,” Akashi replied simply, shrugging the arm off his shoulder.

Natsume seemed unfazed by the terse words. “You’re Furihata-kun’s friend from another school, aren’t you? I’m Natsume, by the way. And this is Haruka-chan!” She motioned to the other girl with a nod of her head, Haruka already stammering protests at the informal introductions. “Any friend of Furihata-kun’s is a friend of ours!”

“Akashi Seijuurou. A pleasure to meet you,” Akashi responded. Furihata thought he could detect a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but couldn’t say for sure.

“You know,” Natsume continued without missing a beat, “last year, Furihata-kun followed Haruka-chan _everywhere!_ It was so cute. He was like a little lost puppy.”

“Natsume!” Haruka hissed, desperately tugging on her friend’s arm. Furihata felt his face heat up, silently thankful that she was as embarrassed as he was at the memory. Natsume only giggled.

“What? It’s true!” she exclaimed. “But Akashi-kun, whenever I see him this year, he’s always glued to his phone and has this goofy smile on his face. It’s really cute. Whenever I ask him about it, he says, ‘oh, it’s my friend from another school!’ I thought he was secretly texting a girl, but now I can tell he was definitely talking about you.”

Furihata’s face flared bright red. Somehow having Akashi hear _that_ was more embarrassing than any recollection of his lovesick blunders from last year. He wasn’t even sure why it was so mortifying, because it was both true and probably very obvious, and he was sure Akashi knew so. They texted back and forth between every class period, and his entire lunch hour was usually spent exchanging messages between bites of food. Still, hearing the way the blonde summed up their relationship left him a blushing mess.

He stole a glance at Akashi, and swore the tips of the redhead’s ears were painted pink.

“As you said, Kouki and I are close,” he countered. Was Furihata imagining it, or was there the slightest hint of a waver in that cool voice? “We must rely on text messaging to stay in contact, as we are only able to see each other on weekends.”

“Oh? You must live pretty far away then!”

“Indeed. I am currently attending school in Kyoto.”

Natsume continued to chatter away as they walked, asking questions and Akashi responding stoically. Furihata was glad for their conversation, as it gave him time to attempt to collect his thoughts and calm his frazzled nerves. Both efforts proved to be an exercise in futility, since he could only managed to conjure a million questions and exactly zero answers. He couldn’t imagine why Haruka would want to celebrate his victory with him (she’d never been interested in his games before), much less what she might possibly want to talk about. Moreover, if she wanted to speak to him alone, then why was Natsume with her at all?

And then, of course, there was the matter of Akashi. The greatest mystery was why the other one was present, and what could have possibly triggered such a change. Furihata had no idea how that worked. Did something major happen to Akashi that he failed to mention in his messages? How long ago had the change occurred? He didn’t recall noticing anything unusual in their conversations throughout the past week. Maybe Akashi was really skilled at hiding things like that, though. Furihata had always assumed everything his friend told him was the truth, but perhaps that was just more blind naivety on his part.

They arrived at a small cafe that wasn’t too far from the street court where he and Akashi usually played. Furihata had walked by it several times but never gave it a second glance; he certainly wouldn’t have pegged it for the type of establishment that might catch Akashi’s eye. The girls were pleased enough with it, though. Natsume squealed over how cute and quaint it was, and even Haruka seemed to relax a little bit at the cozy atmosphere.

Furihata sat down at a table, feeling out of place at such an obviously girly cafe while he was still covered in sweat from practice. He’d expected to just grab some fast food with Akashi and then resume their normal routine, but clearly the universe had other plans for him. But he had to admit, watching the pure, unconcealed terror on Haruka’s face as Akashi held out a chair for her with a creepy smile etched onto his face made him feel a little better. Maybe the other Akashi wasn’t so bad.

Natsume giggled delightedly when the redhead did the same for her. “You’re such a gentleman, Akashi-kun!” she gushed as Akashi took a seat across from her. “Furihata-kun, you could learn something from him!”

“You sound like my mom,” Furihata grumbled, not missing the chuckle from Akashi on his left.

It might have been the initial panic at the situation wearing off, or perhaps it was a reluctant acceptance that this worst case scenario was already in motion, but he was beginning to get used to the other Akashi’s presence. After all, from where Furihata sat, Akashi looked his usual refined self as he scanned the menu, smoothly assuring the girls that this was his treat. Had he not become so close with the redhead, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the subtle differences betraying the switch.

He relaxed back in his chair, and Akashi must have noticed, because he sent him a small smile. It looked more like a smirk at first glance, but now that Furihata had time to decipher it, he could see the warmth behind it. He really was still Akashi, and the thought was comforting.

They ordered their food, the girls deciding on cutely decorated desserts. Furihata was ravenous, and was sorely disappointed at how tiny the cafe’s serving portions were when his sandwich arrived. Akashi ordered a bowl of tofu soup, and sipped at it contentedly while Natsume yammered on about any topic that came to mind.

Haruka sat across from Furihata, and while he tried his hardest to focus on the conversation between Akashi and Natsume, he could feel her gaze locked on him. He shifted closer to Akashi, but made the mistake of meeting her eyes and seeing the small, shy smile on her face.

“U-um, Furihata-kun,” she ventured hesitantly. The other two immediately quieted as she spoke, the tension suddenly suffocating. Haruka’s cheeks flushed, but she continued. “You, um, played really well last week. And… C-congratulations on your win.”

“Oh, uh… Thanks, I guess,” Furihata said, staring pointedly at his drink. He was proud of his victory, but coming from her, the words meant nothing to him. He just wanted them to leave him alone, so he could go to Maji Burger with or without Akashi and stuff his face before going home and sleeping until he could forget about this entire nightmare.

“Kouki has improved considerably from last year,” Akashi commented. He tilted his head, a smirk finding its way onto his lips. “Perhaps he has greater motivation now in comparison.”

“Oh, but didn’t Furihata-kun join the basketball team to impress Haruka?” Natsume asked, grinning. Haruka’s entire face turned red, and she looked like she regretted saying anything. “Does that mean there’s someone you like more than her, Furihata-kun?”

Furihata bit back the urge to reply “yeah, everyone” and instead looked over at Akashi, whose knowing smirk hadn’t lessened in the slightest, much to his annoyance. What was he supposed to _say?_ Now it sounded like he had another crush on someone, which was the farthest thing from the truth. Whatever excuse he came up with, he was sure Natsume would find some way to twist his words and tease him with it. The entire ordeal was starting to feel too calculated on all sides, and he was getting fed up with it. He just wanted to go home.

“Yeah,” he sighed, and nodded to Akashi. “I’m doing it for him.”

Natsume grinned toothily. “Oh really? Why’s that?”

“Because he’s my best friend.”

Akashi’s spoon clattered loudly into his bowl. By the time Furihata looked his way, his face was completely neutral, betraying no emotion. He picked the utensil back up and spooned a chunk of tofu into his mouth casually, as though the words had no effect on him. Natsume giggled.

“That explains why he calls you by your first name. I’ve never heard anyone do that before,” she observed. “Not even Haruka-chan.”

“Nobody else does,” Furihata agreed, then he reached up and ruffled his friend’s crimson locks, enjoying the look of pure shock on Akashi’s face as he dropped his spoon once again. “Isn’t that right, _Sei?”_

“I--Yes,” Akashi responded, just a little too quickly.

“But you don’t like anyone, do you?” Natsume asked innocently, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Her eyes swayed back and forth between the two boys, a smug smile on her lips.

_“No!”_ Furihata replied, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “I don’t like _anyone._ I’d go out on a date with Sei before asking another girl out, so stop asking and _leave me alone,_ alright?”

Akashi choked on his drink. Natsume burst into laughter, clutching her sides at the response. At the same time, Haruka’s face burned red as she pushed her chair out from the table.

“I-I-I’m sorry, I sh-should go,” she stuttered, nearing knocking over her half-eaten cake as she grabbed up her bag. “I-I-Um, th-thank you f-for the food…”

She turned quickly and nearly crashed into another customer, stammering apologies as she rushed out the door. The scene only made Natsume laugh harder.

“Furihata-kun, you’re too cool!” she managed between giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. “I should go too. Thanks for the treat Akashi-kun! Next time, I’ll pay. See you at school, Furihata-kun!” She stood and winked at them, then grabbed her bag and followed after her friend, her shoulders still shaking with laughter.

“Perhaps you did not need me after all,” Akashi commented quietly as they watched the blonde go.

Furihata let out a relieved sigh at the departure of the girls. “Need you for what?”

“Nothing,” Akashi said, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I must apologize for my sudden appearance. I did not mean to startle you.”

“O-Oh,” Furihata replied, realizing suddenly that “me” referred to the _other_ Akashi. “I-It’s alright. Really. I just… Between that and those two, I was sort of… not ready.”

“I am not surprised, given our first introduction,” Akashi said, turning to face Furihata fully so that his golden eye was in plain sight. “I believe I should also apologize for that.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Furihata assured him. “You already apologized a while ago, anyway.”

Akashi chuckled, leaning back in his chair and looking down at the nearly empty soup bowl in front of him. “You knew about it.” It was a statement, not question.

Furihata nodded. “Uh… Kuroko told me about it last year, before the Winter Cup. I never really thought about it or I would’ve said something.”

“And it does not bother you?”

“It’s not that it bothers me, it’s just…” Furihata fidgeted, not wanting to offend Akashi with his words. “ _Why_ did it happen? Is everything okay?”

Akashi smiled. “I did not mean to worry you. It was admittedly a trivial matter, but I was afraid of losing something close to me. It would seem I had nothing to fear after all.”

Furihata felt his face heat up at the words, though he wasn’t exactly sure what Akashi meant by it. Still, it sounded like whatever it was wasn’t trivial at all; at least not to Akashi.

“I suppose I should apologize for using your given name as well,” the redhead continued, still staring down at the table contemplatively.

“N-No, don’t!” Furihata exclaimed. “I-I don’t mind at all. I mean… I meant what I said. Y-you know, about you being my best friend. I know we haven’t known each other that long but…” He was too embarrassed to continue, but Akashi met his eyes with a kind smile. To Furihata’s surprise, his left eye was back to its usual deep red color; he had no idea when the switch occurred this time.

“Then please, call me Seijuurou. Or Sei, if you prefer that,” Akashi answered, smiling gently. He paused a moment, then added, “Kouki.”

Furihata couldn’t help but return the smile. Hearing Akashi call him by his name was so natural that it was hard to imagine he’d ever called him anything else. “Th-thanks for all this, though. I appreciate it. B-but, let me split the bill? I feel bad that you have to pay for all this food…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kouki. I offered and I intend to keep my word,” Akashi replied, back to his usual confident self. “It was a paltry price to pay to see the display you put on.”

Furihata laughed weakly, wondering how that ‘display’ was going to affect him at school come Monday. “Well… If you won’t let me pay, then do you want to come over next week for dinner at my house? My mom keeps asking when you’re gonna visit again.”

Akashi grinned. “Would that be the date you were referring to?”

“Wh-wha--N-no! Y-y-you know what I meant!!”

****  
  


Furihata peered into the third year classroom, chewing anxiously on his thumbnail. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous to ask a simple question, but he found his legs glued in place, unable to step inside. Maybe he was afraid that the answer would be no. Maybe he was more afraid that the answer would be yes. The whole thing was making his stomach churn with loads of unneeded stress.

“Oi, Furi. What are you doing?”

He jumped and, to his credit, only screamed a little bit. He turned to see Hyuuga staring down at him quizzically. Or, knowing the captain, perhaps it was more of a “it’s too early to deal with this shit” look. Either way, it wasn’t making Furihata any less nervous.

“C-Captain, I, uh… I-Is the coach here?”

“Yeah,” Hyuuga responded, motioning inside. “She should be. Come on.”

He breezed past him into the classroom, and Furihata had no choice but to follow. He felt the gazes of curious third years burning into him as he walked past the rows of desks to where Riko sat, absorbed in some handheld game.

“Riko, you’ve got a visitor,” Hyuuga announced, dropping into the desk next to hers.

“Where’s my bread?” she asked, not looking up from her game.

“Would it kill you to be a little more grateful?” Hyuuga sighed, though he tossed the package on her desk anyways.

“Only if double strength training would kill _you,_ Hyuuga-kun,” she replied cheerily. Hyuuga wisely stayed silent at that, and Riko finally shut off her game and tore the bread out of the wrapper. She finally looked up at Furihata, though she didn’t seem surprised in the least to see him there. “What’s up, Furihata-kun?”

“U-um, Coach, I… I want to ask a really big favor,” he said, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering wildly. _Remember who this is for,_ he told himself. It eased his nerves, but only slightly.

“What is it?” Riko inquired.

Furihata sucked in a deep breath, balling his hands into fists. “I-I know we just made it to the Interhigh, a-and I know it’s Izuki-senpai’s last year and that he’ll want to play as much as possible, but… I-If we… N-No, _when_ we face Rakuzan in the finals… Please, let me play the entire game!”

Hyuuga and Riko looked at each other with raised brows, then back at Furihata. The silence that hung over them was thick and heavy.

“Can I ask why?” Riko requested slowly.

He was afraid that very question. “I-I… I can’t tell you exactly why… At least not yet. B-but I need to do this. Please.”

“Is this because it’s the finals? Or because it’s Rakuzan?” Hyuuga asked.

Furihata chewed on his lip. He didn’t want to give away any specifics if he didn’t have to for Akashi’s sake, but it seemed like he had no choice. “Rakuzan.”

“Is this because of your game against Akashi-kun last winter?” Riko frowned. “He quit the team, you know. If you’re out to prove yourself against him, he’s not going to be there.”

“N-No, that’s not it,” Furihata said, shaking his head. In truth, she was mostly right; it had everything to do with Akashi and proving a point, but certainly not _against_ him. Even when they played against each other, Furihata had a hard time calling Akashi his opponent. They played _together,_ regardless of what team they were on.

“J-Just… please. I won’t ask for anything else. I’ll do extra training. I’ll clean the gym every night. Anything you want! Please!” He bowed a full ninety degrees, earning a chorus of confused whispers from onlookers that were enjoying the strange lunchtime spectacle.

“Wh-whoa, Furi, chill out. You don’t have to _bow,”_ Hyuuga said, but Riko regarded him sternly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“This has something to do with why you’ve been training so hard, doesn’t it?”

Furihata straightened slowly, mustering all the courage he had to look Riko in the eye. “Yes. It does.”

“... Alright,” she conceded, sighing. “But only if you promise to tell me what’s going on after the Interhigh is over.”

His face bloomed into a smile. “Th-thank you, Coach! I promise you won’t regret it!”

He bowed again, which only made Riko roll her eyes and Hyuuga blush with an annoyed “Oi!” at the attention they were attracting. He turned and bound out of the classroom, nearly crashing into Kawahara and Fukuda once he made it into the hallway.

“Furi! What are you doing here? Did you ask the coach already?” Fukuda asked.

“H-Huh?” Furihata mentally panicked. He hadn’t told anyone else about his request to play against Rakuzan. How on earth had they found out?

“You jerk,” Kawahara said with a grin. “The coach starts putting you in regular games and you forget all about playing with us, huh?”

Furihata’s eyes widened in realization. “The streetball tournament!” He slapped his forehead. “I forgot all about it!”

Fukuda laughed. “Don’t worry about it,” he consoled. “It’s not until next month, anyways. I’m sure the coach will be fine with it. But we do have some bad news about it.” He frowned. “Kagami’s going to America right after the Interhigh is over. He’s not gonna be able to play with us.”

“So much for Team Second Years,” Kawahara lamented with a sigh. “Last year I got sick, this year Kagami’s gone, what’s gonna happen next year? Kuroko gets abducted by aliens and nobody notices until the day of the game? Or is Fukuda gonna get on the wrong train and end up three towns over in the wrong direction!? Or _maybe--”_

“Anyway,” Fukuda continued, ignoring Kawahara’s rant, “we’re going to need a fifth person. We were thinking of asking someone else from the club, but we weren’t sure who. Koganei-senpai and Mitobe-senpai are attached at the hip, so we couldn’t just bring one of them. And Tsuchida-senpai is always busy with his girlfriend on days off.”

“Must be nice,” Kawahara grumbled.

“I would ask Hyuuga-senpai but then the coach would definitely come.” Fukuda cringed. “I think we get enough of those two at practice. That leaves Izuki-senpai and some of the underclassman, but--”

“Would you guys mind if one of my friends played?” Furihata interrupted. “A-as in… someone not in the club.”

Fukuda blinked. “Uh… No, I wouldn’t mind. Is he any good?”

Kawahara gasped dramatically and grabbed Furihata by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth vigorously. “Is it that mystery friend that’s been training you?!”

“Y-Yeah, but I don’t know if he’ll say yes!” Furihata replied, wriggling free of Kawahara’s grasp. “Let me ask him.”

He dug out his phone and flipped it open, the screen still lit up with the conversation he’d been having with Akashi before he spoke with Riko. He was always saying how much he missed basketball, and as much as he seemed to enjoy their games of one on one, Furihata was positive Akashi missed being in a real game more than anything. The only thing keeping him from accepting would be Kuroko’s presence there, which meant Akashi would have to come clean about everything if he did decide to go.

But it was worth a shot.

_Do you want to play in a streetball tournament in a few weeks with me and my friends? Kuroko will be there, too._

He pressed send and waited for a reply, Kawahara and Fukuda both watching expectantly. The minutes dragged on agonizingly, until a notification ring sent the three of them into a momentary frenzy.

“What did he say?!”

Furihata scanned over the text and laughed, not surprised at Akashi’s bold response.

“He said he’ll play if we win the Interhigh,” he told them, then smiled. “So that’s a yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> despite my hype of Bokushi I feel like he ended up being a little lackluster, so I apologize on that note. someday I may go back and edit that, but we're only like... halfway through the story at most, if that, so that's my primary concern right now. Some love for Fuku and Kawa though, those guys never get enough attention! And holy shit you guys, so many kudos! And comments! And bookmarks! I'm totally not freaking out hahaha no pressure right? RIGHT? ;_; also I'm @heema-wren on tumblr if you want to yell at me, or just yell in the comments, or just yell at the screen and chances are I'll get the gist of it somehow. otherwise I'll see you guys in another couple of weeks. thank you so much again!


	7. Chapter 7

Akashi didn’t miss a single game of the Interhigh.

Once summer break began, his father had predictably shipped him off to Tokyo to continue his training at the company. Akashi was not opposed to the decision in the least, as it meant he would be considerably closer to Furihata. His extreme schedule received a blessed break as well, since he was able to attend his training during the weekdays and had weekends free. Every minute not spent at work was devoted entirely to his friend -- his _best_ friend -- whether it was playing basketball, shopping, or doing summer homework together in Furihata’s room. Most importantly, though, was that he had the ability to attend every one of his games.

Akashi was glad he could witness Furihata play with his own eyes, because the timid brunet had become an entirely different person when he stepped onto the court. Gone were the trembling hands and clumsy fumbling, replaced instead with a head held high and swift, decisive plays. The only remnant of trepidation that remained was the doe eyed look on his face as he scanned the crowds before the start of every game, but even that quickly changed into a wide, breathtaking smile the minute his gaze locked onto Akashi.

Seirin’s victories piled up, one after another. Furihata spent as much time on the court as he did off of it, his team taking full advantage of his ability to change the pace of a game. He could successfully keep up with Seirin’s famous run and gun plays, but his specialty still laid with his slower pace. To most onlookers, Furihata’s contributions probably seemed minimal at best, especially in comparison to Seirin’s ace and captain, but the vast extent of control he exerted over every game he played was as plain as day to Akashi.

Even his fellow members of the Generation of Miracles fell to Seirin’s persistence, though he could hardly pin those victories on Furihata alone. The entire team had improved tremendously, and even with the loss of their Uncrowned King center, they were still a force to be reckoned with. Pride swelled in his chest, not only at Furihata’s development, but also for his old friend Kuroko. He was glad to see the little shadow playing the game he loved so dearly with teammates that shared his passion and values. He had undeniably been the one to open Akashi’s eyes to a world where winning wasn’t everything, and for that, he was grateful.

After all, losing had led him to Furihata.

Beyond Seirin’s games, Akashi allowed himself to take interest in watching his own school play. It was no surprise that Rakuzan made it to the Interhigh, with or without him; their place in the tournament was a given. Since quitting, he’d made it a point to avoid his former teammates, hoping that removing himself from the environment might make the transition easier. Leaving the dorms on the weekend made this a fairly easy feat, but he still caught concerned glances from Mibuchi and the occasional puppy eyes from Hayama when he passed them in the hall. He tried to tell himself that it didn’t tug at his heartstrings, but any time he watched them play from a distance, it was impossible to deny that he missed them.

So naturally, when Seirin stood against Rakuzan in the championship game, Akashi was torn on who he should root for.

He sat in his usual seat as the two teams entered the arena, a cap he’d borrowed from Furihata the other day disguising his red hair. Hayama skittered out onto the court first, earning a disapproving shout from Mibuchi, who dropped his head into his hand with a heavy sigh. Nebuya clapped on him on the back in reassurance, but he stumbled forward under the force of it, then whirled around to scold the huge center. Akashi pitied the new captain, knowing how much of a handful the team could be, but he knew Mibuchi was a capable leader.

Akashi watched as Hayama called out to Seirin’s Izuki, waving his arms at the opposing team and exchanging words with the point guard. He broke into a fit of laughter at something the other said, prompting both captains to haul their players back in line for warm ups. Akashi didn’t miss the brief glance between the two shooting guards as they returned to their respective sides. It seemed that Mibuchi becoming captain had only fueled their rivalry and propelled it to new heights.

Once the warms ups had finished and the game began in earnest, Akashi’s eyes widened as he witnessed Furihata step onto the court in place of his senpai. It wasn’t rare for his friend to start, but unless the elder point guard was injured or they were playing against a team that excelled in a slow game, he usually stayed benched until later on in the game. Izuki was still the better player by a wide margin regardless of how much progress Furihata had made, so unless Seirin’s coach had some kind of secret plan up her sleeve, Akashi couldn’t fathom the reason behind it.

From the quizzical looks the Rakuzan players exchanged, it seemed as though they weren’t prepared for the swap either. Hayama in particular looked sorely disappointed, but none of them appeared to be particularly concerned. Part of Akashi hoped they would regret that.

Furihata showed no signs of fear as he stood on the court, determination radiating off of him in waves. The tip off signaled the official start of the game, and the ball headed directly towards the brunet. He caught it and immediately set a fast pace down the court, throwing the Rakuzan players off balance. Akashi wasn’t surprised; any other time Furihata started a game during the Interhigh, Seirin had set up for a slow start, and faster paces were still outside of his comfort zone. But for whatever reason, the point guard oozed confidence tonight and none of his shortcomings were apparent.

The surprise advantage lasted only a moment, not long enough for Seirin to even score. Rakuzan responded quickly to the attack, though Akashi noted with interest that his replacement looked rather unsteady against Furihata. Certainly the Rakuzan point guard was skilled or else he wouldn’t have made it off of the bench, but the brunet was used to playing against Akashi. In comparison, Furihata was prepared for anything his opponent could throw at him.

Seirin’s ace eventually made the first basket, a roar rivalling a tiger’s echoing throughout the gymnasium. The crowd around Akashi roared back, cheers and boos resounding equally in his ears. He wanted to cheer with them, to scream for his friend’s victory, but his throat was tight and dry. Instead, he scrutinized the brunet’s every movement, from the slightest relief of tension from his form to the bright smile that lit up the entire court. Furihata had him completely hypnotized.

Rakuzan was not to be outdone, and had little trouble keeping pace with Seirin’s quick plays. The score teetered back and forth until the second quarter, when Rakuzan pulled ahead with a series of three pointers from Mibuchi. Seirin’s coach called a timeout, and the players all retreated to their benches. Seirin huddled up, their coach dwarfed by all the players in stature but certainly not in spirit. Even from where Akashi sat, he could see her issuing instructions with a commanding air that he had to respect. She spoke directly to Furihata, who nodded firmly at her orders.

As the time-out ended and they broke apart to return to the court, Furihata scanned the stands briefly and locked eyes with him. His resolute demeanor melted away into a wide, happy smile, and he waved. Akashi felt his heartbeat skip as he returned the simple gesture, the conversation he’d had with Mayuzumi a month prior fleeting through his thoughts.

Kuroko was subbed out for a third year, leaving the brunet to occupy Akashi’s attention even more than he already had. Furihata took advantage of the short break to decelerate the speed of the game, and although the gap between scores didn’t lessen, it didn’t widen either.

Halftime came and went, Rakuzan’s lead still in place even into the third quarter, despite Seirin’s best efforts. Furihata, to Akashi’s surprise, hadn’t been subbed out yet. His team came in strong and quick, the rapid plays allowing them to close in on Rakuzan’s score, if only by a little. But Akashi could tell the brunet was tiring from constant speed, his movements lagging seconds behind what they should have been. No serious missteps came of it, but at the swift pace they played at, any delay in action could have dire consequences. Furihata was no fool, Akashi knew, and so it was no surprise when he changed up the pace once again only a minute into the fourth quarter.

Rakuzan clearly expected the switch and promptly adjusted their positioning to counter. But Furihata was in his element now, surveying the scene leisurely for an opportunity to attack. Akashi smiled to himself at the sight; the strength that was once brought about by cowardice and nervous pressure was now the result of a cool head and clear mind. The point guard was as relaxed as he feasibly could be in the middle of a national level game, something Akashi wouldn’t have believed possible only months ago. His relaxed state was reflected in his teammates, whose energy seemed to be recharging by the second.

Kuroko was subbed back in, and Seirin managed to make a few baskets with the help of his and Furihata’s meticulous passes, effectively tying up the score between the two teams. The brunet continued to play at his own pace, which worked well for his team from a strategic standpoint, but for the spectators, it was the most frustrating thing to watch in the final quarter of the final Interhigh game. The clock was ticking down, and both teams were desperate to score.

A golden opportunity presented itself when the Rakuzan point guard became too impatient in the final minutes of the game. Furihata’s defense was persistent, adding extra pressure to his opponent in addition to the time crunch. The Rakuzan player panicked and tossed the ball towards Nebuya, which was easily redirected into Kagami’s hands by Kuroko. Seirin took off down the court immediately, but Rakuzan wasn’t far behind. The red haired ace was stopped by Hayama, but Furihata reacted by blocking Mibuchi, leaving Hyuuga open. Kagami passed the ball to his captain, who easily made one of his signature three pointers, pulling them into the lead as the final seconds ran out.

The buzzer sounded. Seirin had won.

The gymnasium erupted into screams all around Akashi, the sound reverberating in his ears. Seirin were the loudest of all, cheering rambunctiously at their victory and pulling each other into hugs. But despite the cacophony surrounding him, he could hear only one thing ringing clear in his mind.

_I’ll do it for you!_

He smiled. Furihata had kept his word.

****  
  
  


“So? Where’s your mystery friend?” Kawahara asked, a hand shading his eyes from the intense sun as he squinted into the crowd. “We don’t even know what he looks like! How are we supposed to find him?”

Furihata laughed a little. “He said he’s running a little late. We’ll be able to find him, don’t worry.”

“You still haven’t told us anything about him,” Fukuda commented with a worried frown. “Is it someone we know?”

“U-uh, well…” Furihata fidgeted, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to ruin the surprise either. “I’m pretty sure you’ve seen him before, but--”

Before he could finish, Kawahara screeched like a banshee and dove into the nearby bushes. Fukuda’s face contorted in confusion, looking from the bushes to Furihata for an answer. Kawahara could be weird sometimes, but this was beyond his usual realm of strangeness. Furihata just shrugged.

“Kawa, what are you doing?” Fukuda asked, cautiously parting the leaves to check on his friend. Kawahara responded by grabbing Fukuda’s hand and unceremoniously yanking him down into the bushes with him.

“Shhh!” he urged frantically, his eyes wide. “It’s--”

“Oh, it’s Akashi-kun,” Kuroko commented, his monotone voice lifting slightly in surprise. Furihata whipped around to peer through the crowd once more, and sure enough, he spotted the telltale sign of bright red hair glinting in the sunlight. Akashi was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and crimson basketball shorts with a bag slung over his shoulder; clearly he was not here just to spectate.

_“Sei!”_ he yelled loudly, waving his arms over his head. His three teammates stared at him in utter shock (though Kawahara looked more horrified than anything) as the redhead turned towards them at the sound of his name. He smiled gently and lifted a hand in response as he approached.

“Kouki,” he greeted, ruffling the brunet’s hair affectionately. Furihata smiled, but couldn’t help his blush at the gesture. His first instinct upon seeing his friend was to run and greet him with a hug, but the knowledge that his friends were watching held him back. He chalked up the embarrassment to not wanting to give his friends a full fledged heart attack at his hidden friendship with Akashi, but he still felt the smallest twinge of guilt at not acting like his usual self. Thankfully, the redhead either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.

“Tetsuya, it’s been a while,” Akashi said, turning to face the blue haired phantom. “Congratulations on your victory.”

“Thank you,” Kuroko intoned, expressionless as usual. “I was not aware you were so well acquainted with Furihata-kun.”

“Is that so?” Akashi’s eyes slid towards Furihata, a smirk on his face. “I had figured you would at least mention that I was playing with you today.” Furihata smiled apologetically, but was interrupted before he could explain anything.

_“What?!”_ Kawahara’s head burst forth from the bush, a speechless Fukuda right behind him, leaves haphazardly sticking out of their hair. Silence fell over the group.

“Uh,” Furihata interjected. “These are our other teammates, Fukuda and Kawahara…”

Akashi raised a brow at the two, but otherwise showed no signs of being perturbed. “Akashi Seijuurou,” he introduced with a slight bow. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Um… You too,” Fukuda replied for the both of them, still bewildered but much more mindful of his manners than the other. Kawahara could only stare, slackjawed.

“W-Well, uh, now that we’re all here, how about we go sign in?” Furihata asked, laughing awkwardly. He didn’t think the meeting would go over perfectly, but it was decidedly more uncomfortable than he’d expected. He hoped this whole thing didn’t turn out to be a terrible idea; the last thing he wanted to do was turn Akashi away from basketball more.

But the redhead only smiled and agreed, and they set off to find the sign in table as a group. Akashi and Kuroko easily fell into a conversation of their own, which didn’t surprise Furihata, considering the last time they’d spoken was in April. He was certain they had plenty to catch up on, despite Akashi’s insistence that he held little in common with his former teammates.

He lagged behind the two as they walked, watching them talk. It was a strange sight to behold; even though he knew they had been friends long before Furihata had known either of them, he had befriended each of them separately. It was easy to forget that they were well acquainted, if just because he hadn’t seen them interact since he befriended Akashi. There was even a good chance that Kuroko knew Akashi better than he did.

He looked down at his feet, pointedly ignoring the irrational pang of jealousy that stabbed through his chest.

“Psst, Furi!” Kawahara whispered, nudging him discreetly.

“What?” Furihata asked, secretly thankful for the distraction, even if the weird look on his teammate’s face was a little unsettling.

“Have you lost your _mind?!”_ Kawahara whisper-shouted, motioning wildly to the redhead that walked ahead of them. “Our fifth player is _Akashi Seijuurou?_ And you’re _friends_ with him? And you _didn’t tell us?!”_

“Calm down, Kawa,” Fukuda said, though his face was creased with worry lines. “Really, though. Are you serious about this, Furi? Akashi-san was your mystery friend this whole time?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, sheepishly. “I’m sorry I kept it from you guys, but it was kind of a… delicate topic. Sei’s a nice guy, though. He’s a lot different than he was last winter.”

“If he’s your friend, I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” Fukuda assured with a smile. _“Right,_ Kawa?” He elbowed the small forward, who was still staring at Furihata like he’d just sprouted an extra head or two.

“Y-yeah, sure!” Kawahara exclaimed. “I mean… Damn, you guys are even on a first name basis? Just how good of friends are you?”

Furihata rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Uh… best friends, you could say,” he confessed. “He’s even spending the night at my house tonight.”

The two gaped at him, disbelief plastered on their faces. Furihata sighed, wondering just how long this day was going to be.

They signed in without any trouble, then found a spot in the shade to sit while they waited for their first game. The topic of gameplay strategies inevitably presented itself, seeing as how Kuroko was the only person who had played with Akashi in an actual game before. Kawahara and Fukuda both looked worried, and Furihata honestly couldn’t blame them. Standing up against the former Rakuzan captain in the Winter Cup had been an incredibly exhausting feat for all three of them, and though he was used to Akashi’s presence now, even being on the same court as him had been intimidating when they had met.

Kuroko, however, seemed unworried. “Akashi-kun’s specialty is bringing out everyone’s potential,” he stated. “I believe we will not have a problem with cohesiveness within our team.”

“Actually,” Akashi replied, “I believe Kouki is the one who should lead us.”

Furihata nearly spit out his water. “Me?!”

Akashi smiled, his fiery eyes gleaming mischievously. “Of course. You four are teammates, and thus have a much better understanding of how you work together than I do merely from observation. Kouki, on the other hand, knows precisely how you work, and I suspect he also knows where I might fit into the equation.”

“H-Hey, Kuroko’s played with everyone here too!” Furihata protested, a blush creeping up his neck again.

“Yes, that is true,” Akashi conceded, though his smile turned into a devilish smirk. “But you were the one who invited me. You should take responsibility.”

Furihata’s face turned a brighter shade of pink as Kawahara and Fukuda stifled their laughter. Akashi didn’t even bother to do that much, chuckling as he ruffled Furihata’s hair, which only served to fluster him further. Kuroko observed it all with a straight face.

Their team was announced on the speakers, prompting the five of them to head towards the court where their first game would be held. Akashi offered a hand to Furihata and pulled him up, still smirking.

“D-don’t be such a jerk!” Furihata scolded, trying his hardest to imitate a captain-like attitude, but instead he melted into a fit of nervous laughter. Akashi slung an arm around his shoulder as they walked, and while Furihata was sure the gesture was meant to calm him, it only caused his pulse to quicken.

“You’ll be fine, Kouki,” he promised, still chuckling under his breath. “Where did all that confidence from the Interhigh go?”

“W-Well, nobody made me captain at the last minute there,” Furihata replied, smiling slightly when he was rewarded with the redhead’s laugh. “Are you excited?”

“I am.” Akashi tightened the grip on his shoulder for a moment before letting go altogether. Furihata glanced over at him to see him eyeing the court ahead of them eagerly. This would be the first game Akashi had played since last winter, he reminded himself, and he was there at his side for it. He’d never imagined they would be able to play on the same team like this, and his heart pounded as they approached the court. He touched Akashi’s wrist lightly, enough to make the redhead turn to meet his eyes.

He smiled. “Me too.”

****  
  
  


“You and Akashi-kun are very close.”

Furihata turned his head to regard Kuroko in surprise. He thought he was the only one awake, the matches in the hot sun sucking all the energy out of them by the time the tournament was over. Despite a shaky start while the team was getting used to each other, they ended up winning first place, which was in no small part thanks to the redhead that was currently slumbering soundly next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow.

“Yeah,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb Akashi. He knew how little sleep his friend got, and even if it was only a short nap on the train ride home, he wanted him to get as much rest as possible. “S-sorry I didn’t tell you about it, but…”

“You don’t have to apologize, Furihata-kun,” Kuroko stated. “Akashi-kun explained everything to me earlier. In all honesty, I had my suspicions he had something to do with your training since spring.”

“You did?”

Kuroko nodded solemnly. “Yes. You have picked up a number of his habits. However, I only thought you were taking notes from his old games. I would have never guessed you had become friends.”

The corners of Furihata’s mouth quirked upwards as he thought back over the events that had led him here. “I can hardly believe it myself, sometimes.”

He switched his gaze over to Akashi, who looked considerably younger and much more vulnerable in his sleep. His features were soft and relaxed as he breathed evenly, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. The train jostled slightly, and Akashi shifted closer towards the crook of Furihata’s neck, the red hair tickling his cheek. He reached up to smooth out the crimson locks, his fingers threading through the silken strands, lingering for a moment longer than he intended.

“Furihata-kun.”

He jumped at his name, jerking his hand back as his face heated up. Akashi stirred but thankfully didn’t awaken, instead nestling his cheek against Furihata’s shoulder. Kuroko watched him blankly.

“Wh-what is it?”

“Thank you,” Kuroko replied, the hint of smile showing on his face. “I am very grateful for all you have done for Akashi-kun. I am glad he hasn’t had to spend all this time alone.”

Kuroko’s words echoed in his mind the entire ride home, most strongly when Akashi slowly blinked awake, looking up at him with bleary ruby eyes. The sight caused his heart to pound in his ears.

Obviously the two of them were close, but the blue haired phantom’s words forced him to look at his relationship with Akashi through an entirely different lens. When they arrived at his home that evening, his mother greeted them both with hugs, fussing especially over Akashi and asking him if he’d been eating well and whether he was getting enough sleep, despite having seen him only a few days prior. His father stopped them before they could head upstairs, asking about their tournament that day. Furihata let Akashi recount the details of the games, noting how he kept a calm disposition, but excitement shone in his eyes.

Even his brother stopped by his room later in the evening, demanding yet another shogi rematch from Akashi, claiming he’d _definitely_ win this time. Furihata would have thought it annoying, but the redhead never showed even the slightest hint of irritation at his family’s antics. In fact, it was more like Akashi had become a full-blown member of his family.

It wasn’t even strange to see Akashi sitting on his bed, his eyes glued to the television as he flicked through menus on some strategy video game he owned. He’d become such a staple that he couldn’t imagine what life was like before their friendship.

Furihata sat down on the bed next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. They had both freshly showered, and his friend smelled clean in comparison to the musky scent of sweat that clung to him earlier in the day.

“U-Um,” he started, feeling a strange flutter in his stomach. “Did… Did you have fun today?”

Akashi glanced over at him and smiled. “Of course, Kouki,” he replied easily. “Thank you for inviting me. Your friends made it quite entertaining, as well.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, smiling hesitantly. “Kawahara and Fukuda can be pretty funny. And I think Kuroko was happy to see you too. A-And, uh… I had a lot of fun playing together. You know… On the same team and all.”

“I did as well,” Akashi responded. “I almost wish I went to Seirin. Knowing what it’s like to play with you will make it much more difficult to face off against you this winter.”

Furihata opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as the words registered in his ears. “This winter?” he asked, confused. “Wait, Sei… Does that mean…?”

“You have inspired me,” Akashi admitted, turning to face him with a soft smile. “And I cannot deny how much I miss basketball, especially after today. Once school begins again, I intend to issue a request to rejoin my team at Rakuzan.”

The words were music to his ears. Before he knew what he was doing, Furihata flung his arms around Akashi’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly. The controller fell out of the redhead’s hands, clattering to the ground as he returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around him without hesitation. Akashi laughed lightly, his breath warm on his neck as he nuzzled closer into the embrace. Furihata’s heart raced, his mind whirling with too many thoughts and feelings to put any of them into words. All he knew was at that moment, Akashi belonged in his arms.

By the time they’d turned out the lights and Furihata lay on his bed, his heartbeat was still hammering against his chest so loud that he was sure the rest of the house could hear it. He tossed and turned restlessly, finally rolling onto his side to peer down at Akashi sleeping on the futon that laid on the floor.

He did it. He became number one and convinced Akashi to play again, just as he’d said he would. But even with his goal achieved, he still had a strange, empty feeling in his chest, like something was still missing. The more he looked at Akashi, the more confused and unfulfilled he felt. He reached down and gently brushed his fingers over Akashi’s hair, his heart aching.

“You did that on the train too, didn’t you?”

Furihata froze in place, horrified. He had no idea his friend was awake now, much less that he had been earlier as well. His face burned, and he was glad the room was so dark.

“I don’t mind.” Akashi peeked an eye open, and smiled up at him tiredly. “My mother used to do that to help me sleep when I was a child.”

“O-Oh. Then, um…” Furihata’s hand trembled as he ran his fingers through Akashi’s hair again, tentatively at first, then settling into a slow rhythm. It was soft and smooth, the short strands parting way for his fingers with ease. Akashi’s eyes fluttered closed, and eventually his breathing evened out. Furihata was loath to pull away, but he disentangled his hand, figuring the redhead had fallen asleep. But Akashi took hold of his hand before he could pull it away, holding it against his cheek.

“Thank you, Kouki,” he breathed. “For everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hrm. not much to say bout this one. yet another I had to cut short because I am incredibly lazy. but seriously, thank you everyone for sticking with me. I know it's prolly annoying to hear at the end of every chapter, but the sheer amount of kudos and comments you all give me is totally mind boggling. I'm so grateful, I really am. Thank you guys for sticking with me.


	8. Chapter 8

“Sei? You awake?”

Akashi cracked an eye open, lifting a hand to shade his eyes from the bright sunlight that streamed through the curtains. He heard a breathy laugh from his side, and he squinted to see Furihata sitting next to his futon, the sun lighting a halo around his tousled brown locks.

“Kouki?” he asked, his voice still gravelly with sleep. “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to get up yet,” Furihata responded, smiling. He reached over, tucking stray strands of hair behind Akashi’s ear. Akashi’s eyes threatened to close once again at the feathery touch, a low hum of approval sounding in the back of his throat. Furihata’s hand stilled, coming to rest along the side of his face, fingers tangled in red tresses. Akashi leaned into the touch, the rough callouses of the brunet’s hand causing goosebumps to spring up all over his body.

“Sei…”

Furihata leaned over him, idly stroking his cheek with his thumb. He was close enough that Akashi could feel his breath prickling on his skin, warm and inviting. Furihata curled his fingers around the back of his neck, his eyes half lidded as his gaze lowered to his mouth. Akashi closed his eyes as the brunet bridged the gap between them, a gentle feeling ghosting over his lips.

When he opened his eyes again, he was in his dorm room, the alarm on his phone buzzing incessantly.

Akashi pressed his face into his pillow and groaned in agony.

Of _course_ it was dream. Furihata tended to be rather affectionate, but he’d never do something like _that._ He was still in the process of getting over his ex-girlfriend, after all; with _girl_ being the key word. Furihata had been plenty accepting of Akashi’s tastes, but he’d never given any indication that his were the same. Quite the contrary, Akashi had seen his eyes linger on pretty girls for a moment too long when they were out together, and the flustered blush that had spread across Furihata’s face in the presence of his ex was unmistakable. His chest tightened with an acute jealousy each time, but he had no right to feel that way. He always pushed it to the back of his mind without complaint.

He reached over for his phone, peeking out from the comfort of his pillow enough to shut off the obnoxious ringing. The alarm screen closed on his phone, revealing a background picture of Furihata and himself, the brunet’s arm slung around his shoulders with an excited grin plastered on his face. Akashi smiled, remembering how Furihata had snuck up on him between games at the streetball tournament a few weeks ago and snapped the photo before he was ready. The brunet was smiling straight at the camera, but Akashi had been caught with his eyes on him, the admiration obvious in his gaze.

He’d given up on denying his feelings for his friend. Mayuzumi had been spot on with his observation, and it had taken Akashi an embarrassingly long time before he was able to accept it. In his own defense, however, he truly _hadn’t_ felt this way before. The feelings he’d harbored for Nijimura in middle school were fleeting in comparison to how full his heart felt when he thought of Furihata. Every look sent his mind into a frenzy, and every touch set his heart beating a mile a minute. He had no desire to complicate their friendship, but it was impossible to get rid of his feelings. He simply had to endure it.

He blinked himself out of his daze, seeing a notification for an unread message on the screen. He opened it, unable to keep his smile at bay as the name “Kouki” popped up.

_You’re doing it today, right? Good luck, Sei! I hope everything goes well!_

The short note snapped Akashi back to reality as he remembered exactly what day it was. Summer break had ended, and school was officially back in session starting today, which meant that it was his turn to make good on his promise. He would have to seek out Mibuchi and tell him everything that had come to pass, and only then could he issue his request. Akashi was not normally one to be anxious, but his nerves were uneasy at the thought of confessing everything. Perhaps Furihata was rubbing off on him.

But as he recalled all the brunet had put himself through for his sake, he realized that was an unfair assumption. Furihata had been a trembling, stuttering mess when he’d made his promise in April, back when they were practically strangers. In comparison to his friend’s courage, the task that laid before him now was hardly even worth a passing mention.

He dragged himself out of bed and set about getting ready for his day. He tried to focus on what he would say to Mibuchi and how he might explain his situation, but his attempts were in vain. His mind kept drifting back to Furihata and the dream that had woken him.

That dream had not been the first of its kind, nor he suspected would it be the last. The night he’d spent at Furihata’s after the streetball tournament was weeks ago, and he hadn’t seen him since then. Shortly after that day, the brunet and the rest of Seirin had gone away for a training camp the lasted the remainder of the summer. Akashi supposed that was a major factor in why he couldn’t get that night out of his mind; the feel of Furihata’s fingers threading through his hair still sent shivers down his spine whenever he thought of it. He had no idea what possessed Furihata to do something so affectionate, but with that being their last interaction, it only made Akashi miss him that much more.

They had been texting each other since then, of course, and the frequency with which they did so increased exponentially. Akashi had no idea when he would next be able to see Furihata next, and the knowledge pained him. He already missed his friend more than words could say, but for there to be no reprieve in sight made it that much more unbearable.

Still, he’d kept himself busy over the summer in Furihata’s absence. The talk he planned on having with Mibuchi was hopefully one of the last he would have on this particular topic, considering he’d taken the final weeks of summer to catch up with his former Teikou teammates.

First, he spoke with Midorima over a game of shogi that was long overdue. Next came Aomine and Momoi, who he invited out to lunch, the former having to be dragged out by the latter. After that, he made a visit to see Kise, who promptly dragged him out to karaoke before he could even explain why he was there. Finally, he called Murasakibara, since going all the way to Akita was impossible with his busy schedule.

Each time, he explained everything just as he had to Kuroko, and not a single detail was withheld. He told them of his deal with his father, and how he had been forced to uphold his end of the bargain after Rakuzan lost to Seirin in the Winter Cup. He told them of his reluctance to be completely honest with them, not desiring their sympathy or the inevitable temptation to return to basketball that their presences would all hold. And, of course, he told them of his fateful encounter with a timid brunet, and how his persistence eventually led him to stand before them now.

The reactions he garnered from his tale were mixed, ranging from Midorima’s stoic criticism that he “should have said something sooner,” to Kise’s ecstatic cry of “Akashicchi, I’m so happy!” Aomine was less than impressed with the entire ordeal, only sighing out a surly “dumbass,” which promptly earned him a punch from a teary eyed Momoi. Murasakibara was quiet as he listened to Akashi speak on the phone (other than the occasional chewing noise) and offered a, “eeeh, you’re going to play again? Good for you Akachin,” at the end.

Regardless of their reception, he knew that they were glad to hear directly what was going on with his life. They were his friends, and he had already come close to losing them once. Even though none of them were particularly adept at sharing emotional or personal issues, and even though he didn’t expect anything profound to come of his confessions, Akashi could still sense the concern and relief they silently offered at the end of it all. They were still there, and that was more than enough for him.

The entire ordeal was cathartic for him. He felt liberated now that he had told the entire truth, as though he had chained himself down simply by omitting a few details. He only had more more person to tell, though this final confrontation would also come with a request tacked onto the end of it.

The hours flew by at school, much to Akashi’s dismay. Even though he’d recited his story several times already, the thought of explaining everything to Mibuchi was surprisingly daunting. Rakuzan had suffered the most from his sudden departure, both in that they had lost a regular player and that the responsibility of captain had been unexpectedly thrust upon Mibuchi’s shoulders. Akashi wasn’t sure how much damage his cold attitude towards his former teammates had done either, or if his explanation of why would be sufficient for them to mend their friendship. The more he dwelled on it, the more discouraged he became. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself by already announcing his plans to rejoin Rakuzan’s team.

He stood outside the gymnasium after school, his eyes locked on his phone as he watched the minutes count down until the basketball team’s practice ended. He played through countless hypothetical conversations in his head in an attempt to prepare himself for the real thing.

**If they forgave me, they’ll forgive you.**

The intruding thought caused a crease between his brows, his mouth tugging downwards into a frown. While it was true the other members of Rakuzan were readily willing to accept his apologies for his treatment of them last year, this seemed an entirely different matter.

**Stop overthinking it.**

“Sei-chan?”

The sound of his name jogged him out of his introspection. He glanced up to see Mibuchi, a worried expression marring his features. He wore his school uniform, but his face was still flushed from exercise. Practice must have let out while he was busy wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with clear concern. “Did something happen? Are you alright?”

“Ah… Yes, I’m fine, Mibuchi. There’s no need to worry.” The flurry of questions brought the ghost of a smile to Akashi’s face. Despite all that had happened, Mibuchi still acted like a mother hen around him. Perhaps he was overthinking the entire situation.

**I told you.**

Akashi ignored the thought. “Do you have some time to spare? I would like to speak with you, if that’s alright.”

The surprise on Mibuchi’s face was palpable. “Oh! O-Of course, Sei-chan!” he replied eagerly, though a hint of confusion showed through. Akashi smiled, glad that nothing appeared to have changed in his absence.

“You must be thirsty. Come, I’ll buy you some juice.”

Mibuchi nodded dumbly, still in disbelief at the current situation. Akashi felt guilty at causing such a reaction, though he had to admit it was the slightest bit amusing. He led him towards the vending machines nearest to the gymnasium, a short walk that they’d made together many times before. He even remembered his favorite drink, and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he purchased it and tossed the boxed juice over to him.

“Sei-chan, what’s this all about?” the new captain asked as he took a sip of his drink. Akashi leaned back against the wall of the building, huffing out a weary sigh.

“First and foremost,” Akashi began, “I must apologize for my sudden departure from the club. I know this must have made things difficult, for you in particular.”

Mibuchi frowned. “Sei-chan, don’t--”

Akashi shook his head before he could continue. “Please, let me finish. I told you I wanted to focus on my studies for the remainder of my time here, but that wasn’t entirely the truth.” He shifted uncomfortably, wondering if this nervousness was even a fraction of what Furihata had felt when they first met. He hesitantly met the other’s eyes, which were teeming with curiosity. “If I am to be honest, my father instructed me to quit.”

“What?” Mibuchi asked. “But why? You’re such a talented player, Sei-chan, any parent would be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

Akashi could not stop the sardonic grin that crept onto his face. “My father expects excellence in all things,” he explained. “And in his eyes, to excel means to win.”

“He made you quit because we lost?” Mibuchi frowned, his lips puckering into a pout. “You’re not to blame for that loss. We lost as a team.”

Akashi nodded, having heard similar words many times now. “I agree with you. However, it is not my view that matters in this case. My father’s opinion could not be swayed, so I was left with little choice.”

“I see,” Mibuchi commented morosely as he stared at the ground in contemplation. “But why tell me all of this now? You didn’t need to hide it. I would have understood.”

“I knew I would have to quit eventually,” Akashi replied. “I figured it was an opportunity for me to become accustomed to life without it. I did not intend to be so aloof, and I apologize if I have made you feel any ill will towards me. Please know that I do value our friendship, regardless of how I’ve acted in these past months.”

Mibuchi’s eyes widened, pink painting his cheeks. “Sei-chan…” He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, tittering nervously. “I’m still not used to you speaking your feelings so plainly.”

Akashi chuckled, the same sentiment echoing in the back of his mind. “I’m sorry. And as for the reason why I have decided to tell you…” His mind wandered once again to Furihata, and he found himself smiling. “I would like to request to rejoin the team.”

Mibuchi brought a hand to his mouth in a tiny gasp. “Sei-chan, of course! We’d love to have you back! But… Why now, all of a sudden?”

Akashi smiled. “I saw your final game in the Interhigh.”

“You came to watch?” Mibuchi asked, furrowing his brows. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“If I am to be honest,” Akashi replied, “it was because I was not rooting for Rakuzan to win.”

“What? Sei-chan, that’s awful! Why were you there then?”

Akashi smiled again, staring up at the sky. “The point guard from Seirin that played in the final game,” he stated. He laughed at Mibuchi’s confused reaction, and took it as a cue to continue. “His name is Furihata Kouki, and I met him this past spring…”

He launched into his story, starting from their unlikely meeting in April and recounting all the subsequent events he could remember. Mibuchi proved to be a rapt audience, interjecting with gasps and exclamations at every turn, even slipping in a few dreamy sighs at the more emotional parts. Akashi was sure his admiration for Furihata was evident in every description he made, but he had no desire to hide it.

Once he’d finished, they both found themselves seated on the ground across from each other, the sun hanging low in the sky. Mibuchi seemed overall delighted at the tale, but still wore a pensive expression on his face once it was over.

“What’s wrong?” Akashi asked.

“Well, Sei-chan… You said your father made you quit, right? What does he have to say about you rejoining the team?”

Akashi winced at the question. It was the first time anyone had bothered to ask that, much to his surprise.

“I have not told my father,” he admitted. “Nor do I plan to.”

“What?!” Mibuchi exclaimed, eyes wide. “Sei-chan, how on earth do you think you’re going to manage that? We have practices and games on the weekends, you can’t just miss them all!”

“I am well aware, I assure you,” Akashi replied cooly. “If I tell him, there is a distinct possibility that he will go out of his way to prevent me from playing. However, while father may not approve of basketball, that does not mean he is opposed to other extracurricular activities. I intend to tell him that my schedule as student council president is filling up rather quickly, and I will need time on the weekends to attend to those matters.”

It wasn’t a lie either, unfortunately. Akashi truly did have a large pile of student council work that awaited him. Both the sports and cultural festivals for the school would be upon him before he knew it, and with them came a mountain of paperwork to attend to. Surely his father would still insist on his company training on top of that, but he hoped he would agree to continue it remotely for now.

“Sei-chan, you’re so devious!” Mibuchi giggled. “Do you really think it will work?”

“It has to,” Akashi replied somberly. “It’s the only way I can play, and I promised him.”

The shooting guard smiled at the sincerity of his words. “We’ll do whatever we can to help you, Sei-chan. We’re happy to have you back.” He stood, dusting the seat of his pants before offering a hand out. Akashi smiled at the gesture and took it, letting his captain pull him to his feet.

“Would you like to get dinner? We have to tell Ko-chan and Ei-chan the news! They’ll be so excited!”

He laughed. “I would love to, Mibuchi. It’s been far too long.”

Mibuchi beamed. “Oh! Come to think of it, you won’t be captain, will you? Any requests for what jersey number you want?”

Akashi chuckled, a certain sunny smile drifting into his mind. “How about number twelve?”

****  
  
  


“You won’t be in town this weekend either?”

Furihata wanted to slap himself for the obvious whine permeating his words. He hadn’t seen Akashi since the middle of August, and now September was coming to a close. He didn’t realize just how much he would miss the redhead when Akashi informed him that he would no longer be in Tokyo every weekend, or how integral his presence had become in Furihata’s life. His days felt empty with nothing to look forward to, and with each week that passed without a visit, he became increasingly miserable.

He wanted Akashi to rejoin his team, but he hadn’t predicted this consequence. He was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

Akashi’s cheerful laugh on the other end of the line silenced that doubt. _“I’m truly sorry, Kouki. I promise you I would be if I could,”_ he replied, static muffling his voice. _“If you are ever free, you would be welcome to come visit me in Kyoto. Although I’m afraid the dorms do not allow overnight visitors, so it would have to be a day trip.”_

Furihata felt a blush creep up his neck at the memory of what happened last time they shared a room. Perhaps a day trip was for the best, even if it meant less time together.

“I’d really like to,” he said, sighing wistfully. “Maybe I could after my birthday. I should have some extra money then.”

Akashi was silent for a moment. _“Your birthday?”_ he asked. _“Is it soon?”_

“Huh? Oh… No, not really. It’s at the beginning of November,” he responded. “You don’t have to get me anything for it though! A-Actually, I think the guys from the club are gonna throw a party for me, so if you could come…”

_“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Kouki,”_ Akashi replied instantly, and Furihata felt his heart skip a beat at the words. _“Text me the details once you figure them out and I will be there. I promise.”_

“R-Right,” Furihata stammered out, awkwardly fidgeting with the phone in his hand. Akashi being so forward was a breath of fresh air compared to the constant guessing games Furihata had to play when they met, but something about it made him incredibly flustered. “Oh… What about yours?”

_“Mine is at the end of December.”_

“No way, I’m older than you?” Furihata asked, laughing in disbelief. The sound of discontent the redhead made only made him laugh more.

_“I hardly think a month and a half qualifies as_ older, _Kouki.”_

“Whatever you say, Sei,” he shot back with a grin. “Anyway… I should go. My mom’s gonna be mad if I miss dinner again.”

Akashi laughed. _“Yes, you’d best not invoke her wrath,”_ he conceded. _“I still have some work to finish up myself. I’ll talk to you later.”_

“Don’t overdo it,” Furihata said. “Later!”

He snapped his phone shut and picked up his bag, hauling himself to his feet. Akashi had called him just as he was about to leave the gym, so he took the opportunity to rest his poor legs for a minute before heading home.

Even though he fulfilled his promise to Akashi, he had no plans to slack off on his training anytime soon. It would be an insult to their friendship to face off against him in the winter at anything but his full potential, and so he found himself practicing harder than ever before. And no matter how much tried to deny it, it also served as a good distraction from the obvious void in his life now that he no longer had the weekends to look forward to.

He crossed through the school gate, sighing at the memory of Akashi waiting for him there with a heavenly smile. He wished he could see him.

“Furihata-kun!”

His head snapped up at his name, his eyes darting around wildly. It wasn’t Akashi -- wasn’t his voice, wasn’t what he called him -- but for a fleeting moment, he hoped. Instead, Natsume stood waiting for him, her customary cheery smile eerily absent. The sight of her coupled with the irrational disappointment that it wasn’t Akashi waiting for him was all it took to sour his mood.

“What do you want?” he asked. The words came out harsher than he expected, and he didn’t miss the flash of surprise that crossed over the blonde’s face.

“I just wanted to talk,” she said.

Furihata frowned, his suspicion only increasing when he noticed her best friend was nowhere to be found. “Haruka isn’t with you?”

“No,” Natsume replied, shaking her head. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I-I don’t want to talk to you, though,” Furihata said, the words coming out far too meekly. He took in a deep breath, wishing Akashi was there to give him some courage. “You guys have done nothing but bother me all year, a-and… I’m tired of it. S-so whatever’s going on with you guys… I-I don’t care. S-so leave me alone, okay?”

He took a step forward to leave, but the blonde reached out to grab him, her nails digging into his arm like a vice.

“Ow!”

“That’s just _it,_ Furihata-kun!” Natsume gritted out, her features creased in frustration. “Haruka-chan _isn’t_ done bothering you! I’ve tried to get her to move on, but she’s obsessed with trying make things up with you!”

Furihata was taken aback at the sudden disclosure, but was determined not to let his resolve waver. “Wh-why should I believe you? You haven’t done anything to discourage her from what I’ve seen. You’ve been right there making fun of me the whole time!”

“I’ve been trying to keep her from being alone with you!” Natsume proclaimed desperately. “But she caught onto it, and now she’s avoiding me. Furihata-kun, please listen to me. If she tries to talk to you, _don’t listen to her.”_

Furihata bristled at the command. “I don’t like her anymore. I’m not gonna date her again, no matter what she says.”

Natsume shook her head. “That’s _not_ what I’m worried about. I don’t--” She faltered a moment. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Either of you.”

He felt a twinge of pity for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. No matter how she looked now or what she said, she’d been one of the primary sources of torment that plagued him since the beginning of the school year. Even if he wanted to forgive her, it wouldn’t come that easily.

“I… I don’t believe you,” he declared, yanking his arm away. He rubbed the area her nails had dug into, narrowing his eyes at her. “This is just… Just another one of your stupid games, isn’t it? S-so that you guys can laugh at me later, right?”

“Furihata-kun, _listen!”_ Natsume pleaded. “I’m not the bad guy here! All I’ve tried to do is warn you about what Haruka-chan’s up to! I’ve tried to keep her away from you!” She bit her lip, then continued in hoarse whisper. “Why do you think she’s even friends with me?”

“What?” There was too much information to take in at once, and he wasn’t sure what to believe. Furihata shook his head to clear his mind, turning away. He didn’t need this. “L-Listen Natsume, j-just leave me alone okay?”

“Furihata-kun, wait a minute!”

Furihata didn’t bother to respond, instead taking off at full speed, ignoring the shouts that followed in his wake. He pumped his already sore legs, running until his breath was ragged and his lungs were on fire. He stopped only when he felt like he was about to collapse, his chest heaving and sweat pouring off of him.

He’d gone far enough that there was no chance of Natsume following him, but he still had a ways to go before reaching home. He collapsed onto a bench, berating himself for expending so much energy directly after practice. But what choice did he have? He had to get out of there. Natsume’s words still bounced around his head, eliciting all sorts thoughts and theories as to what she had meant.

He shook his head again, trying to empty his mind. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about either of them. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open to see the picture of Akashi and himself that he’d taken over a month ago. He exhaled slowly, feeling the tension slowly release from his body.

He opened the ongoing text conversation with his friend, and sent a simple message.

_I miss you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the shitstorm begins! I know this chapter was pretty uneventful, except maybe the end. But starting with the next chapter, the parts I've been wanting to write the most are coming, so I'm pretty excited. Also, sorry if Mibuchi is OOC... I have no idea how to write him OTL  
> Thank you once again everyone for reading, I can't friggin believe there's over 300 kudos and 40+ bookmarks and just, holy crap, I, uh... I'm pretty floored at the kind words and all the feedback that everyone's given me. It's pretty surreal, and I can't thank you guys enough. I'm sorry I don't respond to all the reviews, but I promise I read each and every one and I nerd out over all of them. Thank you all for sticking with me ;A;


	9. Chapter 9

The last text Furihata had received from Akashi was three days and eight minutes ago.

He sighed, shutting his phone for the umpteenth time that morning and solemnly resolving not to check it again for the next hour. Akashi was a busy guy, now more than ever before, and he knew that. He’d sent twelve texts since the last one he received, and given the amount of time that had passed, he was actually _proud_ of how low that number was. He didn’t want to bother his friend, and he especially didn’t want to annoy him. Not that Akashi had ever, _ever_ given him that indication before, but Furihata couldn’t help worrying over it anyways.

Akashi had warned him that things may get too hectic for him to respond in a timely manner, but receiving nothing from him in a full three days was unheard of. Their conversations had been ongoing constantly since summer, punctuated only by class, practice and sleep. Even at his absolute busiest, Akashi always made time to call or text, even if it was just to let him know what was up.

He wasn’t getting bored, was he? Now that Akashi was back to playing basketball with his old friends and teammates -- people that were actually _good_ at the game -- had Furihata lost his usefulness?

_No, no! Akashi would never think that!_ he scolded himself, forcing the pessimism to the back of his mind. They were best friends. Akashi was just busy. Why was he letting this bother him so much? He groaned and folded his arms on the table in front of him, dropping his head to rest on them.

“You okay, Furi?” Fukuda asked, frowning. “You’ve seemed pretty out of it the past few days.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Furihata mumbled, though neither Fukuda nor Kawahara seemed convinced by the blatant lie. They exchanged concerned glances, which only caused guilt to bubble up inside of him.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I really am okay, I’ve just… Got some stuff on my mind, I guess.”

“Yeah, we kinda figured that much,” Kawahara replied, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s why we invited you out. You’ve been killing yourself at practice and you’re always staring at your phone like some lovesick teenage girl--Ow!”

He was cut off by a swift kick under the table from Fukuda, who glared at him in warning. “We’re just worried,” the center admitted, offering Furihata a kind smile. “You haven’t been this down since… Well, since everything that happened last last spring.”

Hearing his current situation compared to his _breakup_ of all things brought heat surging to his cheeks. It wouldn’t be too farfetched at this point to say he liked Akashi more than he’d ever liked Haruka, but there was absolutely no way he _liked_ Akashi. Regardless of how much it hurt not to see or hear from him, or how all he wanted to do was take a train to Kyoto and pull the redhead into a tight hug and not let go, they were definitely just friends. Definitely. Probably.

“N-No, this is nothing like that, seriously!” he protested, laughing nervously. “I-It’s just… uh…”

“You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to, Furi,” Fukuda interrupted, shrugging nonchalantly. “We’re here if you want to though.”  Kawahara nodded vigorously in agreement, giving a thumbs up as support since his mouth was full of food.

“Th-thanks, guys,” Furihata said shyly. He appreciated their honest concern, and the fact that they’d given up a Sunday to drag him out shopping just to cheer him up, but at the same time, he felt conflicted about the fact that they deemed such a thing necessary. Was he really letting this thing with Akashi affect him that much?

“Hey, there’s this new RPG that I wanted to check out after this,” Fukuda continued, tactfully diverting the subject. “You guys wanna come with?”

Kawahara swallowed a bite of his food. “Are you talking about the new game in the Legends series?” he asked excitedly. “I forgot that came out! Are you gonna buy it?”

Furihata took a sip of his drink as his friends bantered back and forth about the video game. Normally, he’d be just as excited to hop in on the conversation, especially considering how Fukuda’s recommendations were always top notch, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Now that his friends had brought it up, he was even more conscious of his actions; how his mind was always on Akashi, how he kept imagining his phone was vibrating in his pocket, how desperately he wanted to hear from him. Something. _Anything._

Perhaps this was a little similar to how he’d acted around crushes before, but this was different. Akashi was much too prone to hiding things and trying to shoulder his burdens all alone, and despite all Furihata had done to change that, old habits die hard. He couldn’t help but worry, and there was only so much he could do over voice and text. The only time Akashi seemed to truly relax was when they were together in person.

Admittedly, Furihata was beginning to wonder if the same could be said of himself. Without any contact from Akashi, his mood apparently had deteriorated enough in just a few days time for his friends to take notice. The only thing that made him feel better was, embarrassingly enough, thinking about the time they’d spent together. He pointedly told himself that this did not mean all the times he’d latched onto his friend on instinct, even though the feeling of Akashi’s hair tickling his cheek and his arms locked around his waist were impossible to shake off. He remembered sifting his fingers through silken hair and the peaceful look on his friend’s face as he did so, and the memory made his heart beat faster and slower at the same time.

And sure, the fact that Akashi seemed much more interested in guys than girls hadn’t escaped him. And _maybe,_ just maybe he’d wondered a couple of times if the redhead had ever thought of him that way, or if he was his type at all.

He doubted it, though; Furihata was the epitome of mediocre, and someone like Akashi would only go for the most interesting and extraordinary people out there. What those kind of people were like remained a mystery, though. After all, he still didn’t know anything about the senpai that Akashi mentioned having interest in, and Furihata would be lying if he said he wasn’t still curious.

Curious enough to wonder, but much too embarrassed to ask.

“Hey, Furi? Hello?”

“H-Huh? Oh!” Furihata snapped out of his daze to see both his friends giving him odd looks. “Uh, sorry, what were you saying?”

“Why’s your face so red?”

“Kawa, shut up,” Fukuda sighed. “I was just saying we’re about to head over to the game store if you wanna come with us.”

“O-Oh, u-um,” Furihata floundered, his thoughts far removed from video games. “I-I think I’ll pass. I wanted to… Uh… Ch-check out the bookstore, maybe? Kuroko recommended me some novels a while back and… Yeah…”

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Kuroko _had_ recommended him a few books some time ago, but he hadn’t been interested in starting a new series recently, so he’d been putting it off. Now, however, it was a great excuse to go off on his own for a while and pull himself together. There was no reason for him to sit around moping and borderline obsessing over unanswered texts. Hadn’t he learned that last year, when he was trying to get Haruka’s attention? All it did was stress him out and cause his friends to worry, and he needed neither of those things.

Plus, maybe some new books would take his mind off of Akashi. It wasn’t a bad idea.

Fukuda still looked concerned, but smiled anyways. “Alright, sure,” he said. “You wanna meet up somewhere afterwards?”

“Yeah, uh… I don’t know how long I’ll be,” Furihata replied, apologetically. “I’ll text you when I’m done, is that okay?”

Fukuda nodded, and Furihata waved as he watched his two friends set off towards the store. He sighed in relief at their departure. They meant well, but the more they tried to cheer him up without any success, the more guilty he felt. He needed to clear his head, and only after that would he really be able to appreciate their efforts.

He allowed himself a peek at his cell phone (no new messages) before making his way to the bookstore. He stared at the ground as he walked, trying to focus on books instead of a certain redhead and failing miserably. No matter how he looked at the situation, Akashi’s behavior was strange, and it bothered him. He pulled out his phone again and scrolled through their past conversations, looking for a hint of something weird he said or something he’d done wrong to evoke this abnormal silence. There was nothing obvious that he could see, but he did note an increasing dropoff in communication after a certain text he’d sent.

_I miss you._

Reading the words again set his face on fire. He still had a hard time believing he’d sent it, even if he could argue that he wasn’t thinking straight at the time. What made it worse was that Akashi had responded with _I miss you too_ and he’d spent the rest of the night staring at the text with his blood coursing in his ears so loudly that it drowned out the rest of the world.

But if Akashi missed him as well, why had their texts dropped in frequency after that? And now they had come to a screeching halt altogether, which indicated the polar opposite of what Akashi had said. He couldn’t make sense of it.

Furihata was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he ended up crashing headfirst into another person, dropping his phone and sending it skittering across the floor.

“O-Oh, s-sorry!” he apologized, looking around frantically for his phone. “I-I didn’t even see you there, that was my fault.”

“Yeah,” the stranger replied flatly. “I get that a lot.”

Furihata watched as the stranger bent down to pick up the wayward phone, and couldn’t help but feel like something about him was incredibly familiar. He had grey hair and blank eyes, and did seem to have appeared as if out of nowhere. Had Furihata not bumped directly into him, he probably never would’ve noticed him.

The stranger was about to offer the phone back to him, but something on the screen caught his eye. Furihata blushed a dark shade of crimson; there was nothing incriminating on his phone, but still, someone else seeing his wall of text to Akashi was embarrassing.

“C-can I have my phone back, please?”

“Oh, hell,” the stranger said, looking from the screen to him. “It’s you.”

“Huh?” Furihata had no idea what that was supposed to mean. “D-Do I know you?”

“Nope,” the other replied, offering the phone to him. “And I’d like to keep it that way, so you better get out of here while you still can.”

Furihata cautiously took back the phone, panic electrifying his nerves. What was this guy talking about about? Was he being threatened? He desperately wanted to take his advice and run, but instead he stood glued to his spot, clutching his phone tightly. The stranger looked less than amused by his anxiety-driven defiance and opened his mouth to say something, but a different voice came instead. A voice that Furihata knew very well.

“Mayuzumi, there you are. I was able to purchase the special edition of the light novel you wanted before it went out of sto--Kouki?”

Furihata’s heart stopped as his gaze locked with Akashi’s. His eyes went wide, and the bag that he carried slipped from his grasp and onto the floor. The stranger -- Mayuzumi -- dove to save the merchandise from its grisly fate, sighing in relief as he peered into the bag to ensure nothing was damaged.

“Sei?” Furihata squeaked. “Wh-what are you doing here?” He squeezed the phone in his hands, thinking only of the one-sided conversation contained inside it. “Why haven’t you been responding to my texts? I-I’ve been worried…”

“I’m sorry, Kouki,” Akashi blurted out. “I did not mean to worry you, I have been tied up these past couple days since I was to come to Tokyo this weekend--” He faltered, his eyes trained on Furihata’s, a strange sort of desperation held within them. “I should have responded. There is no excuse.”

“U-um, it’s…” Furihata began, but he didn’t know how to continue from there. He wanted to say “it’s okay,” but it wasn’t. Akashi had mentioned nothing about being in Tokyo this weekend. If a few days of unanswered messages had put him in a bad mood, the fact that Akashi was in town but hadn’t told him was a slap in the face.

He should have seen it coming, though. He may have helped Akashi through a rough time, but he was far from his only friend. Akashi didn’t owe him every minute of his free time, regardless of where he was. There were probably tons of friends that he hadn’t seen in months or longer, and it was understandable that he might want to spend time with other people.

There was no reason for him to get upset, but that didn’t stop his chest from aching.

“... D-don’t worry about, Sei,” he said, forcing a smile. Akashi was wholly unconvinced (was he really that bad at lying?) and closed the distance between them, grabbing his hands and locking gazes with him.

“I was going to surprise you,” Akashi proclaimed hastily, desperation still in his eyes. “I called Tetsuya this morning to find out if you had any plans for the day, and he informed me that you were free, but I had things to attend to first, so…”

Furihata blushed under his gaze, hyper aware of the warm hands holding onto his. He wanted to believe him, and had no rational reason not to, yet doubt still festered within him.

“I’m ‘things to attend to?’ Thanks Akashi, you’re so kind,” Mayuzumi intoned.

Furihata jumped at the sound of the voice. He was so focused on Akashi that he completely forgot there was someone else present. Akashi dropped his hands and tore his eyes away to regard the older teen.

“Kouki, this is Mayuzumi Chihiro,” Akashi introduced with a sigh. “He was a senpai of mine at Rakuzan. You may remember him from the Winter Cup.”

Recognition dawned on Furihata. “O-Oh, you’re the one that uses misdirection like Kuroko, right?”

Akashi beamed at the observation, or perhaps at the visible grimace from Mayuzumi. It was likely a combination of the two.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too, kid,” Mayuzumi replied sarcastically, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Maybe now Akashi will finally shut up about you and stop dragging me to your games.”

Akashi shot him a glare, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I only made you go to _one_ game. Have I not made up for it since then?”

A blush crept up Furihata’s neck at Mayuzumi’s words, but something about the exchange bothered him. The first time Akashi had shown up to one of his games, he had bumped into him on accident and said he wanted to surprise him; a turn of events all too similar to what he was experiencing now, and it left him feeling uneasy and suspicious. Not to mention, later that same night Akashi said that he had been at the game with a senpai. The only _other_ time he had mentioned a senpai was during that first phone conversation…

Furihata could fit the pieces together.

“U-um, S-Sei, is… Is he that senpai from Rakuzan that you… Um… Y-you know…” Furihata stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word _kissed._ How much more of a loser could he be?

His answer came in the form of Akashi’s widened eyes and rapidly increasing blush. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Mayuzumi looked confused, but also incredibly amused at the same time. It left little room for doubt.

“S-so then,” Furihata dared to continue, despite the growing feeling of discomfort in his gut, “does that mean… W-were you guys on, um… Was this a date?”

Akashi sputtered at the question, and a snort of laughter came from Mayuzumi. Furihata shrank back, not knowing what he should expect from reactions like that. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to hear as an answer, only that the knowledge that he was in presence of someone Akashi had kissed bothered him _severely,_ and he had no idea why.

“And what if it was?” Mayuzumi responded before Akashi could compose himself, a sly smirk replacing his sardonic laugh. He dropped a hand onto Akashi’s head, ruffling red tresses in a painfully familiar gesture that made Furihata’s heart drop.

Akashi regained his senses at the contact, swatting the hand away and shooting the taller male an icy glare. “What are you talking about?” he hissed. “This was _not--”_

“What difference does it make?” Mayuzumi asked, ignoring the redhead and instead addressing Furihata directly. “Why do you care if Akashi’s dating someone?”

“I… Uh…” He didn’t know. He hadn’t the slightest clue why he was so curious about who it was that Akashi had kissed, or why it bothered him so much to see them together now. And whether they were dating or not, Akashi was his best friend. If he found someone that made him happy, shouldn’t he be happy too? Shouldn’t he be supportive?

Shouldn’t he be something other than _jealous?_

Mayuzumi watched him boredly as he struggled to come up with an answer. Akashi was staring at him too, his ire at the older teen forgotten in favor of hearing his response. Furihata swallowed nervously, sweat beading up at the back of his neck. He didn’t do well under pressure. His throat went dry. His mind was drawing a blank.

An ocean of silence stretched between them, and eventually Mayuzumi let out a long sigh.

“You’re both idiots,” he mumbled. Akashi’s head snapped towards him, his brows knit together with indignation at the comment, but his expression turned to one of utter shock as Mayuzumi leaned down and pressed his lips against his.

Furihata’s entire world stopped in that moment. A sharp pain stabbed through his heart at the sight before him. His mind screamed in protest; that this was wrong, that this wasn’t happening, that this was all a bad dream. But despite the raging torrent of emotions that filled his head and heart, Furihata couldn’t move a muscle. Mayuzumi was kissing Akashi right in front of his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it.

Though it felt like a torturous eternity to him, the display of affection lasted only a few seconds. Akashi was stunned into silence, his eyes locked on Mayuzumi in disbelief. The older teen clapped him on the shoulder.

“You can thank me later,” he stated. With another quick ruffle of Akashi’s hair, he walked off, disappearing easily into the throngs of people.

Akashi’s bewilderment didn’t last long. He broke from his daze and shouted after Mayuzumi, his face flushed with heat, but his senpai was long gone by then. He whirled to face Furihata instead, his eyes wide.

“Kouki, I apologize, I don’t… He didn’t…”

“N-no, um,” Furihata took a shaky step backward, his body finally obeying his commands. All he could concentrate on was the heavy weight in his chest. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to hear an explanation. He just wanted to leave and go home.

Akashi saw the retreat and reached out to stop him. “Kouki, please. This wasn’t--”

“I-I gotta go, Sei,” Furihata interrupted, taking another step back to avoid the hand grasping for him. “M-my friends are waiting for me, s-so… I-I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Kouki, wait, please!”

Furihata ignored the plea and turned heel, his feet carrying him through the crowd, farther and farther away. He could hear Akashi’s shouts behind him and could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket (for real this time), but he didn’t dare turn back to face his friend.

He headed for home, his promise to meet with his friends forgotten the way he wished he could forget that kiss.

****  
  
  


_Kouki, I apologize. I promise I was not ignoring you._

_Will you please let me explain?_

_Kouki… Please talk to me._

Furihata scrolled through the messages, guilt gnawing at him. They had piled up in the past week, and he left them all unanswered. He was well aware of the hypocrisy of the situation, but the longer he went without answering, the harder it became to respond.

Akashi had sent nearly fifty messages, all of them begging and pleading for Furihata to talk with him. Truthfully, he _wanted_ to speak with him again; he missed Akashi terribly, and he regretted not staying and listening to him when he had the chance. But every time he thought of his friend and the daunting task of replying to him, that dreaded kiss burned in his mind, making him feel nauseous and dizzy.

He was running away again. He was a coward.

His phone buzzed again with a new text, and he scrambled to open it as quickly as possible. To his surprise, the message wasn’t from Akashi. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing as he scanned over the contents.

_Furihata-kun, I’d like to talk to you, if you would give me the chance. I’ll be waiting at the park near the school after your practice is over. I won’t hold it against you if you decide not to come._

Furihata sighed heavily, burying his head in his arms. The last thing he needed was for Haruka to pop back up in his life while he was in the middle of an entirely different problem. Were the circumstances any different, he’d probably be texting Akashi about the message at that very moment and asking his thoughts on it. As it was, the only advice he had to go on was the warning Natsume issued weeks ago, and he could hardly trust that.

It would be easy just to ignore it. He had nothing left to say to her, and she was giving him every opportunity to walk away. He could leave things as they were and be done with it.

But all he ever did was run and rely on other people. It was pathetic, how he couldn’t even make his own decisions most of the time. How could he ever face Akashi again if he couldn’t even close out a relationship that ended more than half a year ago? If he heard what she had to say, it would at least be a step in the right direction.

It was only when he found himself at the entrance to the park and saw her sitting on the swings that he began to doubt the merits of this idea. The sun had already set, leaving the park deserted save for her lonely silhouette. It gave him a dire sense of foreboding, but he’d come too far to back out now, so he swallowed his trepidation and approached her.

“Furihata-kun?” she asked quietly, glancing up in surprise as he neared. “I… I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Y-yeah,” he laughed nervously, and took a seat on the swing next to hers. “Me neither, honestly.”

She was kind enough to giggle at his poor attempt at humor, but it was soon replaced by a heavy silence. Furihata scuffed his feet in the dirt, the streetlights casting long shadows on the peaks and valleys made by his shoes. He glanced over at Haruka and saw her eyes cast down to her lap, where she picked nervously at the hem of her skirt.

“Furihata-kun, I…” she started suddenly, then bit her lip in hesitation. She chanced a look up at him, and their eyes locked. She drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t been totally honest with you.”

“Huh?” he asked dumbly. He’d barely spoken to her at all this year; certainly nowhere near enough for her to lie to him about anything. “What do you mean?”

“I-It’s just… There’s a lot that I haven’t been upfront about,” she explained, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to keep bothering you, but I don’t feel right just leaving things the way they have been. Y-you deserve an explanation.”

“Okay…” He wanted to tell her that an explanation would’ve been much more appreciated back in March, but snide comments probably wouldn’t help coax her into talking. He was just as much curious as he was eager to get home.

“Th-the truth is… I really did like you, Furihata-kun. And I still do. I have ever since we met back in middle school.”

His head snapped up at the confession. Haruka was staring at the ground, her hands clenched tightly on the chains. That was the _last_ thing he was expecting to hear from her.

“Wh-wh--Really?”

She nodded gloomily. “Y-yes, it’s true. You were so sweet to me when everyone else thought I was weird…” She scrunched up her face at the memory. “You were my friend when nobody else would be. When you asked me out, I was so happy, but at the same time…”

Furihata felt his heart skip a beat. “W-wait, if you were happy, then why did you tell me you’d only date me if I became number one in something…?”

Haruka chewed her lip. “I… I didn’t want to say no,” she admitted. “I wanted to go out with you. B-but at the same time, high school was a chance to get a brand new start. I went to Seirin because not a lot of people from our middle school went there, a-and I thought that maybe, if nobody knew how I used to be, then…”

“... Then you could be popular here,” Furihata finished for her. She nodded mutely, and the admission left a bitter taste in his mouth. “So is that the reason why you’re friends with Natsume? Because she’s popular?”

Haruka nodded again. “I know it sounds awful,” she acknowledged. “B-but… I just wanted friends. A-and I didn’t know how to make them, so I just…”

On a rational level, Furihata could understand her plight. Her actions made sense, if he took into account the fact that she was only thinking of what was best for her. But at the same time, that was exactly what bothered him. She didn’t consider his feelings at all. She picked popularity over someone that already liked her for exactly who she was.

Natsume had been right. She wasn’t the bad guy here.

“Th-then when you broke up with me… That was because I wasn’t popular enough? Even though I did what you asked?” He tried to keep the waver out of his voice, but it refused to stay steady.

“I… Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she conceded. “Believe me, Furihata-kun, I know it was wrong. I dated someone else for a while, but… I didn’t like him. I-I just did it because he was friends with a lot of people a-and… The whole time, I could only think about you. I couldn’t take lying anymore, so I broke things off with him.”

Furihata was speechless. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even after all that happened, he never would’ve believed she was capable of deceiving people to that extent. She never struck him as manipulative or selfish before. It was as though the person before him was a stranger, not the girl he had known and admired for years.

“And, this past summer,” Haruka continued, “when I saw how hard you were working and how much you had improved…” She smiled. “I guess I fell for you all over again. I thought that maybe you were working so hard because you still wanted us to date--”

“No,” Furihata interrupted, an uncharacteristic anger burning up inside of him. “That wasn’t for you. That was for someone else.” His mind wandered to Akashi standing the same stark streetlights half a year ago, staring forlornly at the sky above them. Akashi was the reason he had worked so hard this whole time. All he had wanted was to see him happy, and now he was even messing that up. How could he have forgotten something so important?

Haruka’s smile had disappeared. “I… had thought of that too. There were rumors, actually… Some people were saying you were dating someone from another school. I didn’t think it was true, though. After all we went through, I didn’t think you’d fall for someone else so quickly.”

“It’s true,” Furihata confirmed, his head swirling with a red haze. “There’s... Someone else I like.”

“I see,” Haruka said quietly. She stood up and dusted herself off. “I wasn’t going to try to get back together with you, Furihata-kun. I know I’ve messed up too much to hope for that. I just… I wanted to tell you the truth. I don’t want to lie anymore.” She picked her bag up off the ground and offered him a small smile. “Thanks for coming to listen to me. I, um… I’m sorry about all this. I really am. I… I hope you have a good night.”

She turned and left, her soft footsteps echoing long after she was out of sight.

Furihata stood once she was gone and started on his way home, his body fatigued and listless in a way that no amount of physical exertion could compare to. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He was over Haruka and had been for a while now, or at least he had thought so. If he was over her, why he letting this get under his skin? One part of him was glad she had been brave enough to tell him the truth, no matter how ugly it was, but the other part of him was furious in a way that he’d never experienced before.

How could she have treated him that way? How had he not realized it sooner?

The conversation played over in his head as he walked, and each time it only frustrated him further. Only a few blocks from his house, a sound to his right jerked him from his reverie. Someone was playing basketball at the street court he and Akashi used to play at. He hadn’t been there in months, and watching the effortless movements of the person playing made him miss his friend that much more.

How did he truly feel about Akashi? After all the inner turmoil he had gone through in the past week, he wasn’t so sure anymore. His desire to see Akashi smiling and happy was much stronger than his desire to have a girlfriend ever was. The redhead had inspired him and helped him muster a level of dedication and determination that he didn’t know he possessed. He owed Akashi everything, but it still wasn’t enough. He wanted something more from him, and it left him yearning with an empty hole in his heart.

The longer he watched the figure play, the more familiar the graceful movements were. His eyes widened as the streetlights caught a flash of red.

“S-Sei?”

Akashi turned, his face lighting up at the sight of him.

“Kouki!” he exclaimed, dropping the ball and rushing over to meet him. “I apologize for surprising you, but you weren’t answering my texts and I thought that you might still take this route home from school--” He stopped, his eyes widening as he approached. “Kouki? What’s wrong?”

“H-huh?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“Your face,” Akashi said, reaching out to touch his cheek. His hands were rough and calloused and perfect, and it made something Furihata couldn’t describe well up within him. “You’re crying.”

“O-Oh.” He reached up to touch the wetness on his cheeks, and found his hand covering Akashi’s instead. “S-Sei… You know I did it for you, right? I became number one for you.”

“Of course, Kouki,” Akashi said softly. “I have never doubted you, not even for a moment.”

“Sei… I’m sorry, I...” His eyes met concerned rubies, and the well within him burst. Akashi didn’t hesitate for a moment, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace.

Furihata couldn’t stop the flow of tears. All he could do was bury himself in Akashi’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I heard Furi's whole 'become number one for the girl he likes' spiel, this situation is the first thing that came to my mind and it was really the basis for Furi's side of the fic. I hope I've done it justice. Also we have the worst wingman ever, Mayuzumi, who is a jerk and I love him for it. I didn't actually mean for him to come off as that much of a dick, but he's been out of fucks to give for like four chapters now so I guess I can't blame him.  
> Thank you again for everyone's awesome support with comments and kudos and random ninja asks on my tumblr, you're all so very kind ;_; I know this has taken a real shoujo manga-esque turn, but I hope everyone will enjoy it from here on out. Thank you all for sticking with me!


	10. Chapter 10

Furihata had never felt so pathetic.

He clung to Akashi, his face buried in his neck, the warm skin a stark contrast from the cold night air. His tears fell freely onto his friend’s shirt, soaking it through and surely staining the expensive material. He sniffled, trying to calm himself from the sudden storm of emotion. What did he even have to cry about? Was it because the girl he admired for so long had spurned him in favor of her own interests? Was it because his best friend would rather spend time with someone else?

Or was it because they were both better off leaving him behind?

It didn’t matter if he gave it his all, or even if he succeeded in his achieving his goals. He had done all he could to be worthy of Haruka and to inspire Akashi, and both times he was left for better. In the end, he was still extraneous. He wasn’t needed, wasn’t _wanted,_ not even by those that claimed to care for him the most.

And who could blame them?

His throat tightened, the sobs wracking his shoulders more violently than before. All he ever did was impose on Akashi, and now was no exception. Even if the redhead had chosen others ahead of him, Akashi was still number one to him. He wanted to motivate him, wanted to be regarded with respect and maybe even admiration. The last thing he wanted was for him to see any of this wretched weakness, and that only made him cry harder.

Akashi stayed mercifully silent through it all, holding him in a fierce embrace. Furihata hated how dependent he still was, but he was forced to admit that he needed this. After the uncertainty that sprung up within him the past week, there was no place he wanted to be more than with Akashi, and now he was as close as he could get.

The redhead rubbed small circles in his back, wordlessly assuring him that he was there for him and had no intention of leaving. Furihata hadn’t realized how much needed that. The tears slowed and the tremors that shook his body calmed. He breathed in deeply, inhaling a refreshing mix of crisp night air and Akashi’s calming scent. He didn’t want to pull away, though whether it was due to the comfort of being in his friend’s arms or the reluctance to look Akashi in the eye, he couldn’t say.

“S-Sei, I…”

“It’s okay, Kouki,” Akashi interrupted. “I am here for you, as I should have been in the first place.”

Something about the words struck Furihata as odd. He gently pushed back to look up at his friend, his breath catching in his throat as he caught the shining reflection of gold in Akashi’s left eye. He tensed, not know what to make of this change.

“I-I… I’m sorry, Sei, I didn’t think…” He hung his head, his voice growing small. He was doubting him again, and the shame of those thoughts conflicted harshly with his feeling of abandonment. And standing before the other Akashi only made the entire ordeal that much worse. “I should’ve… I-I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Akashi chided, a commanding note to his voice. “If there is something ailing you, I shall do everything within my power to fix it.”

“N-No, I don’t think there’s anything to fix,” he replied, staring down at his feet. “I just… I don’t know what to think anymore. I was wrong about so many things, a-and now I…” He sniffled again, feeling warm tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “I just feel stupid.”

“You are not stupid, Kouki,” Akashi stated, his tone brooking no argument. He tilted up his chin, their gazes meeting once again. Furihata’s eyes went wide at the naked affection he saw there, mismatched eyes searching his. When the redhead spoke again, his voice was soft and pleading. “Will you talk to me?”

Furihata nodded silently, leaning in to rest his forehead on the other’s shoulder. “Y-yeah,” he said, breathing deeply. His head hurt from crying so much, and he felt dizzy. Sensing his unsteadiness, Akashi circled an arm around him once again and led him to a bench near the court. Even after they sat down, he kept his arm placed around him, leaving Furihata to wonder if his lightheadedness was caused by something else entirely.

“Are you feeling well enough?” Akashi asked, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He laid the back of his hand against Furihata’s cheek, searching for elevated temperature. “Shall I walk you home first?”

“N-No, I… I don’t really wanna go home,” Furihata sniffed, rubbing his nose. He could only imagine the questions he’d earn from stumbling into his house in the middle of dinner, eyes red and cheeks streaked with tears, his best friend trailing behind him. He didn’t need anyone else prying into matters right now; all he needed was Akashi.

Akashi hummed in acceptance and pulled his phone out of his pocket, his other arm staying firmly in place around Furihata. The gesture was a welcome distraction from his self depreciating thoughts, an anomaly in the redhead’s actions that made Furihata’s heart beat a little faster. He nestled closer into his grasp, and Akashi squeezed him gently in acknowledgement.

“Yes, this is Seijuurou,” the redhead spoke into the phone. “I need a car.”

Furihata peered up at his friend in curiosity as Akashi listed off the details of their whereabouts. He hadn’t planned on going anywhere, but clearly Akashi had interpreted his words differently. He missed Akashi, though, and the more time they could spend together, the better.

Akashi hung up and returned the phone to his pocket, catching Furihata’s curious stare. He gave a small smile, fingers idly stroking Furihata’s side.

“U-um, Sei, where…” Furihata began to ask, distracted by the gentle caress along his ribs.

“My apartment,” Akashi said. “You can stay the night with me, if you’d like.”

“I… Y-yeah,” he replied, a spike of anxiety rising at the suggestion. He leaned his head on Akashi’s shoulder, willing himself to breathe slowly. “That’d be nice.”

“The driver should be here soon,” Akashi said, and lifted a hand to gently stroke his hair. Furihata’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch. “We can talk when we get there. Just rest now.”

“Um,” Furihata said hesitantly, his voice strained. “Y-you didn’t have to do this, especially after this past week. I-I really should’ve called or texted you or _something,_ b-but, I… um… I’m sorry.” His fingers curled into the fabric of his friend’s shirt. “And… th-thank you, Sei.”

Akashi chuckled, the tiny gust ruffling Furihata’s fringe. “Anything for you, Kouki.”

They settled into silence as they waited, the sounds of the street echoing faintly in Furihata’s ears. He focused on the warmth that encompassed him, the fingers trailing through his hair, and the steady rise and fall of Akashi’s chest. His mind was otherwise blissfully blank, free of all that troubled him, if just for a moment.

The car arrived far too soon for Furihata’s liking. Disentangling himself from Akashi was difficult, and he felt an acute loss at the absence of the gentle caresses. His eyes followed Akashi’s hands as he led him to the car and opened the door for him, ushering him inside. As redhead slid in next to him and closed the door, Furihata closed his fingers around his hand and huddled close to him once again, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Akashi was more than receptive, opening his hand to link their fingers together and nuzzling Furihata’s soft locks.

They reached their destination after only a short drive, the car pulling up in front of a highrise apartment building. Furihata craned his neck to look up at it, a sense of vertigo accompanying the vast height that loomed over him. He was brought back to reality by a light touch on the wrist and a smile from Akashi that looked out of place with his golden eye gleaming intensely in the street lights. Furihata was almost surprised to find that he no longer felt any fear from this other persona, only a quiet serenity in the knowledge that this too was the Akashi he knew and cared for so dearly.

The lobby of the building was welcoming and warm, and Furihata would’ve found the space pleasant had he not felt so self-conscious at his disheveled state. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that he’d been crying his eyes out on his best friend’s shoulder less than an hour ago. He stuck close to Akashi, wishing he could reach out and grab his hand for comfort, but he knew that’d be the surest way to draw attention to himself.

They didn’t remain there for long. Akashi greeted the doorman pleasantly, and they passed through the lobby without any other interaction. The elevator ride seemed to take longer than the car ride to get there, the doors finally opening on the 45th floor. His friend led him down the quiet hallways, halting in front of a door with the name “Akashi” posted beside it. He unlocked the door and opened it wide for Furihata to enter.

The apartment was spacious and open, with floor-to-ceiling windows covering the far walls that offered a breathtaking view of the Tokyo skyline. Every surface was clean and polished, as though it was the first time anyone set foot in the room. Furihata marveled at the space as he toed off his shoes, his mouth agape.

“Y-you live here? By yourself?” he asked, following Akashi meekly through the main area and down a hallway.

“It is my father’s apartment for when he has business here in Tokyo,” Akashi explained, leading him into a bedroom. The room held a familiar scent, which made the rest of the place seem  decidedly sterile in comparison. He could tell by the abundance of red accessories that it must be Akashi’s room. “I am here much more often as of late, though. I lived here when I was in middle school as well.”

“O-oh, right, I forgot you went to middle school here,” Furihata replied lamely, staring around the room in wonder. It was neat and clean, decorated sparsely with basketball posters and awards, but overall it felt rather bare. Akashi pulled out a pile of clothes from a dresser and handed them over, giving Furihata a strange sense of deja vu.

“You’ll feel much better once you have a shower,” Akashi declared. “There is a guest room next to mine that you may use tonight, with a bathroom attached to it. Take as long as you need. If you require anything more, please let me know.”

“U-um, yeah,” Furihata managed, stepping out into the hall after him, feeling oddly disappointed at leaving Akashi’s room behind so quickly. “I, um… Thanks.”

Akashi smiled, golden eye twinkling in the dim hallway, before turning back and heading towards the main area of the apartment once more. Furihata stared after him for a moment, then turned and entered the guest room, wasting no time in turning on the shower and peeling off his school clothes.

He stepped into the steady stream of water, letting it rain over him as he allowed the tension to release from his body with a sigh. He was glad he came here, he decided. He could only imagine how miserable he’d be trying to sort out his thoughts had he gone home, with interruptions from his family abound. Here, he at least had some privacy to compose himself and calm his mind, which Akashi seemed to realize he needed. And then there was Akashi himself.

Furihata blushed fiercely at the realization of all that had transpired in the park. Akashi had never been opposed to friendly gestures before, but neither had he ever initiated anything so intimate. His arms around him, his hand tangled in his hair, his breath warm against his skin, his fingers linked with his -- the closeness was intoxicating. He wanted more.

The kiss drifted into his mind, sending a feeling of dread through his stomach. The conversation with Haruka tonight may have been what sent him over the edge, but the image of Mayuzumi’s lips planted firmly on Akashi’s was undoubtedly what caused his sour mood for the past week. He thought that Akashi coming to Tokyo without telling him had been what warranted his ire, but that small fact was quickly overshadowed whenever the subject came to mind.

What was more unsettling were the thoughts that accompanied the disdain he felt at the act. He found himself wondering what exactly it was about Mayuzumi that Akashi found attractive, and what the older teen had that he didn’t. Perhaps this kiss hadn’t been a planned one, but Akashi had admitted himself that he had been _curious_ enough to approach Mayuzumi back in Rakuzan.

_Why him?_ Furihata wondered, frowning and scrubbing his body furiously. At the same time, a much smaller voice sounded in the back of his mind: _Why not me?_

Convinced that the heat rapidly rising to his face was due to all the hot steam, he quickly turned the temperature cold.

He climbed out of the shower shortly after, since thoughts of Akashi and kissing managed to become ten times more awkward when he was naked. He dried himself off and tugged on the borrowed clothes, amused at how well his friend’s clothing fit him. The long sleeved v-neck was a deep crimson color, paired with black sweatpants and clean white socks. He stared at himself in the mirror, fussing with his unruly hair, hoping he looked presentable.

Akashi had been right, though. He did feel better after the shower, though his frame of mind had only managed to shift from one problem to another. The ordeal with Haruka weighed on him still, but it was obvious Akashi cared about him, and that was what’s important. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. Now, however, he had to face the issue of last week’s events, and the whirlwind of emotions that accompanied it.

After a short call to his mother to inform her of his whereabouts, he exited the room, his legs wobbling as he trekked down the hallway. He needed to talk with Akashi, and he would never get a better opportunity than now. As he tried to figure out exactly how to broach the topic, he caught scent of a pleasant smell wafting from the kitchen.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight of Akashi clad in an apron, cooking a delicious-smelling meal on the stove. The incredibly domestic scene sent him reeling, wondering if he’d stumbled into an alternate dimension on his route down the hallway. The redhead turned and smiled at him, motioning with a nod for Furihata to sit at one of the bar stools lined along the island counter.

“Feeling better?” he asked, turning back to the stove.

“Um, yeah, I think,” Furihata replied, his eyes inexplicably drawn to the way Akashi’s fitted dress shirt hugged his frame. “U-uh, you cook?”

“Of course. I am here by myself more often than not, and you spent the entire summer scolding me for eating fast food and convenience store bentos.” Akashi peered over his shoulder and smiled slyly. “This is the least I can do for you in return.”

Furihata blushed, but the memory brought a grin to his face. “W-well, I mean, you need to eat properly or else you’re gonna stay short forever.”

“Oh? Perhaps I was just waiting for you to catch up to me,” Akashi shot back, mirroring the grin as he removed the pan from the stove. Furihata couldn’t see as he dished the food out onto plates, but his eyes widened as he turned and set the food in front of him. “Here. Your favorite. Omelette rice.”

Furihata blushed, flattered that Akashi had actually made him dinner. “S-Sei, you didn’t have to! I mean, I--”

“I did not make you a five course meal, Kouki,” Akashi replied with humor as he took his own plate and seated himself next to him. “This isn’t exactly a complicated recipe.”

Furihata took a bite of the omelette, suddenly remembering he hadn’t eaten since lunch. It was perfect, as expected; Akashi never did anything that was less than the best.

“It’s delicious, Sei,” he complimented, meeting the affectionate gaze the other gave him. “I… Thank you, really. For tonight, and for everything. You, um… You really are my best friend.” He looked down at his food. “I’m really sorry I haven’t said anything, especially after being worried about not hearing from you. Th-that was… stupid.”

“If I may ask,” Akashi ventured, his expression carefully guarded, “what was it that caused your silence?”

Furihata swallowed another bite of his food thickly, his nerves electrifying at the question. “U-um, I-I, uh… I-I was, uh, that is, I thought you were d-dating Mayuzumi-san a-and you didn’t tell me about it and… Um…” He shrank back, cringing at how horrible this lie was. “I-I mean… Best friends tell each other everything, right?”

“They do indeed.” Akashi chuckled. “You needn’t worry, Kouki. I am not dating anyone, and had I the inclination to, you would be the very first to know.”

“Oh, u-um, good,” Furihata replied, hoping his cheeks didn’t look as flushed as they felt. “U-um, b-but… Mayuzumi-san was the one you kissed at Rakuzan, right?”

“He was.” Furihata felt his stomach drop at the confirmation, even though it was already obvious.

“Kouki.” Akashi’s voice came again, stern and serious. “Please do not blame him for my actions.”

Confusion swept over Furihata, and he briefly wondered why it would matter if he blamed Mayuzumi for anything. But as he turned to meet his eyes, he was reminded of the glittering gold present there, and suddenly knew exactly who he was referring to.

“U-um, no, i-it’s okay, Sei,” he insisted, his face feeling hotter by the moment. “I-I mean I didn’t know you back then, s-so it’s not like… Um...” What was he saying? Why did it matter if he knew Akashi when it happened or not? Why did it matter if Akashi kissed someone _at all?_ “I-I was just… curious. Th-that’s all.”

“I see.”

They fell into silence as they ate, Furihata berating himself for acting so oddly. The official knowledge that Akashi wasn’t dating was somehow a huge relief, but in the end, that raised more questions than it answered.

“S-so then, um,” Furihata continued, nervously picking at his food. “I-If you guys weren’t on a date, why were you out together? I mean, you’ve never mentioned him before, so…” He wanted to crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment. He should’ve just let it drop, but _no,_ he had to pry. And now he sounded pathetically clingy.

Luckily, there was a hint of amusement in Akashi’s eyes as he responded. “He helped me out with some personal issues this past summer. I felt I owed him, so I offered to buy him a gift in thanks.”

“P-personal issues?” he asked. He bit his tongue to ensure  _‘Why didn’t you ask me?’_  remained unsaid. “I thought you said you didn’t talk to anyone else over the summer.”

“Yes,” Akashi answered. “Mayuzumi was the sole exception, other than you, of course. I felt he was the only one I could turn to about it at the time.” His expression softened. “I apologize, but it’s not something I’m quite ready to speak with you about… Not yet, at least.”

“Th-that’s okay,” Furihata replied, even though he was burning up inside with the desire to know exactly what had ailed his friend. He took an oversized bite of food, hoping it would keep him from asking any more stupid questions for a couple minutes.

“Forgive me if I am mistaken, Kouki, but this was not what upset you so much tonight, was it?” Though Akashi posed it as a question, it sounded more rhetorical than anything.

Furihata grudgingly nodded his head. “Yeah, my ex…” He winced as he recalled the words they’d exchanged. “She, uh, wanted to talk to me. And it… just kind of sucked.”

He divulged the events from earlier that night as they finished eating, watching Akashi’s expression grow darker and darker as he spoke. When he finished the tale, his friend stayed eerily silent for a time, his features creased in contemplation.

“I am sorry you had to go through that, Kouki,” he said. “Unfortunately, I am no stranger to inadvertently hurting those I care about. I’m in no place to judge, but should she ever bother you again, I will deal with her myself.”

Furihata laughed nervously at the intensity of the proclamation. “Uh… Th-that doesn’t include scissors by any chance, does it?”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing! H-here, let me take care of the dishes, since you cooked.” Furihata quickly scooped up the empty plates before Akashi could protest and brought them to the sink. He turned on the water and started to clean, only realizing Akashi had followed him when he felt a hand come to rest on the small of his back.

“Are you okay, Kouki?” he murmured, quiet enough that Furihata barely heard it over the sound of running water. “Tell me, truly. You don’t need to hide anything.”

“Y-yeah, I’m okay, Sei. I promise,” he said, anxiety spreading from the point of contact on his back. “I was stressed out from everything between you and me, and then that happened… I just felt like a loser.” He sighed, subconsciously leaning into Akashi’s touch. “I’m alright, though. S-sorry to make you worry so much…”

“Stop apologizing,” Akashi replied, the corner of his mouth lilting into a crooked smile. “I am just relieved to hear that you’re well. Here, let me dry that.” Furihata passed a dish over to him, a smile forming on his own lips at yet another uncharacteristic scene.

“You know, you look good in an apron,” he commented. His eyes widened as the words left his mouth; he hadn’t meant to say that out loud! Akashi appeared equally surprised by the compliment, but his alarm quickly melted into a sly grin.

“Do I?” he asked, eyeing Furihata up and down. “Then I must tell you that red suits you well.” He tilted Furihata’s chin up to meet his eyes, his voice lowering into an alluring whisper. “ _Very_ well.”

Furihata shivered. There was something feral in the look Akashi gave him; something hungry that no amount of delicious food could sate. Suddenly the redhead was close, too close, and his heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure Akashi could hear it. He tried to look anywhere other than Akashi’s lips, but he could feel his warm breath ghosting over his skin, overwhelming his senses. His own lips parted automatically as the redhead leaned closer, his eyes half-lidded, breath stuck in his throat.

And then Akashi was gone, plates clattering as he put them away, as though nothing ever happened.

“Tell me, Kouki, what have you been up to this past week?” Akashi asked lightly, removing his apron. “I don’t believe we’ve gone this long without communicating in some manner. I must admit, it was odd not to text you during my lunch hour.”

“H-huh?” Furihata scrambled to collect his thoughts, blood coursing through his ears. “U-um… N-not much that’s new…”

They fell into casual conversation about school and basketball as they normally did, but Furihata couldn’t quell his quickened pulse. He tried to focus on what Akashi said to him, but instead found his eyes wandering to his lips, his slender neck, his graceful hands and the strong forearms revealed by rolled up sleeves. His smile, his laugh, the way his mismatched eyes shone affectionately at him; they were all driving Furihata crazy.

He excused himself early, claiming exhaustion after a long day, and Akashi bid him good night uneventfully. There was no hug or lingering touch, just a simple smile and brief wave as Furihata trudged back down the hall, his mind working overtime.

He crawled into the large bed, hugging a pillow to his chest and praying he would fall asleep quickly. He was not so lucky, and was instead left awake with a myriad of questionable thoughts.

He knew, objectively, that Akashi was handsome. He’d known that since before they became friends, and it was a hard fact to ignore, even if he was actively trying. It had never posed a problem in the past, but _now_ it was glaringly apparent, and Furihata couldn’t seem to get him out of his head.

It didn’t help matters in the least that he knew, too, how Akashi felt under his touch -- how smooth his pale skin was, and how hard the toned muscles were laid beneath -- but even so, he desperately wanted to touch him _more._ He wanted to revisit every contact they’d ever had and then some.

He wanted to _kiss_ him.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He wanted to _kiss_ his best friend. His best friend, who was a _guy._ His best friend, who was _Akashi Seijuurou._

He buried his face into his pillow and groaned. Was this why he was jealous of Mayuzumi? Was this the reason he’d gotten so upset? What did this all mean?

Did he _like_ Akashi?

Furihata tossed and turned, hours ticking away as the invading thoughts kept him awake. He was sleepy, but the anxiety brought by all these revelations weren’t allowing him a moment of rest. There didn’t seem to be any reason to keep laying there. There was only one other option.

He swung his legs out from under the covers, the coolness of the hardwood floors seeping through his socks. He poked his head out of the room and peered down the hallway, noticing dim lights still illuminating the kitchen and living room. He tiptoed down the hall, cautiously peeking out into the room to see Akashi seated on the large sectional sofa, a laptop balanced on his knees, the television lighting his features with a harsh blue.

“Sei?”

Akashi turned, offering a gorgeous smile when their eyes met. “Kouki,” he greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Is there something you need?”

“I, um… Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, deciding to leave out the major detail of why. Akashi motioned for him to join him, and Furihata complied without needing any further prompting. He settled onto the couch next to him, close enough that their shoulders touched. Akashi had changed out of his day clothes and into comfortable ones instead, and given the dampness of his hair, Furihata assumed he had showered as well. He tried not to picture it.

“Shall I get you anything? Tea, perhaps? Are you hungry?”

“N-No, I’m fine,” Furihata assured him. “I just, um…” He swallowed nervously, and laid his head on Akashi’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

Akashi sat up suddenly, and for a terrifying moment, Furihata thought he had done something wrong. But the redhead merely placed his laptop on the coffee table before them, and reached behind Furihata’s head to grab a throw from the back of the sofa. He arranged the blanket around them, wrapping an arm around Furihata and pulling him close again.

“I missed you too, Kouki.”

Furihata’s heart pounded at the proximity, close enough that Akashi could probably feel how fast it was beating. He looked up at his friend -- wondering vaguely if this situation was still within the boundaries of ‘friendship’ -- and saw that his eyes were still different colors, both of them trained on him.

“U-um,” he stammered, his throat suddenly dry. “S-Sei, you, um, wh-when you kissed M-Mayuzumi-san, y-you guys were j-just friends, right?”

“You seem to be awfully hung up on that topic,” Akashi commented, gently running his fingers through brown locks. “But yes, we were just friends.”

“W-well, uh… I-If you k-kissed him and y-you were just friends, th-then… Um… I-I mean, i-if you’re willing to k-kiss someone th-that’s just a friend, th-then...”

“Yes, Kouki?” His lips were mere moments away.

Furihata buried his face in his neck, his cheeks burning, his courage gone. “U-um… I… N-nevermind.”

****  
  
  


Furihata groaned as the sunlight hit his eyes, making him recoil instinctively back into his pillow. Morning had come far too soon, and he was still groggy with tiredness. The mental exhaustion that plagued him was by far the worst, leaving his mind sluggish and hazy. The prior night had given him far too much to digest in such a short period of time, and he still didn’t feel up to dealing with all of it quite yet. Loath as he was to say goodbye to Akashi, it would be for the best at this point.

He shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, not ready to get up yet. For such a luxurious apartment, he was disappointed at how uncomfortable his mattress was. Did they skimp on it because it was only a guest room? A frown tugged at his mouth as he buried his face in his pillow once again. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember the pillows being this hard and lumpy.

Come to think of it, he didn’t remember returning to his room, either.

His eyes shot open, rendering him momentarily blinded by the bright light that streamed in through the tall windows. What came into focus first was a shock of red hair, glowing brightly in the morning sun. Panic hit Furihata like a freight train.

He had fallen asleep on the couch with Akashi.

And no, not just _with_ Akashi -- _on top of_ Akashi.

The redhead had his arms locked around his back, his face buried in his hair. Furihata, in turn, had been snuggled up close to his neck and using his shoulder as a pillow, if the large drool stain on Akashi’s t-shirt gave him any indication. Their legs were a tangled mess, disallowing Furihata from getting up without waking the other. He was stuck.

Akashi stirred, and he froze, his body rigid with tension. The redhead tightened his embrace momentarily, then cracked his eyes open, both of them now the same scarlet color.

“Kouki…” he said dreamily, his voice still gravelly with sleep. He brought a hand up to run fingers through brunet hair, a faraway smile playing on his lips. He blinked slowly, his gaze coming into focus as the haze lifted. His eyes widened with the same realization Furihata had.

“Kouki?!”

Furihata shrieked as they flew apart, tangled limbs causing him to crash onto the floor with a hard _thump._ Akashi curled his legs up to his chest, his face beet red.

“K-Kouki, I-I apologize,” he stammered, more flustered than Furihata would have ever believed possible. The expression on his face was much akin to a child getting caught stealing from the cookie jar. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable, I merely...That is, I had no intention of t-taking advantage…”

“No, Sei, I’m sorry, it was my fault!” he protested, waving his hands wildly. “I-I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you, I just c-couldn’t sleep and I thought we could hang out for a while or--”

A shrill ringtone interrupted them, causing both of them to jump nearly a foot in the air. Akashi scrambled to pick it up off the coffee table, his hands shaking.

He cleared his throat before answering, though the faintest hint of a tremor could still be detected in his voice. “Hello?”

Furihata watched as Akashi’s eyes widened. He was unable to make out the words coming from the other end of the line, but he could hear the severe tone.

“No, father, I did not mean to disobey, however--Yes, there is someone else here, but--” He furrowed his brow. “It was of great importance, I assure you. The work will be done on time as usual, so I fail to see why I can’t--”

His eyes grew wide again, but he turned away before Furihata could see more. When he spoke again, his voice was small.

“Father… How did you know? I cannot quit again, I only just--”

In a rush of adrenaline that Furihata was sure he would regret later, he sprung to his feet and swiped the phone out of Akashi’s grasp. The redhead whirled around to meet him, disbelief plastered on his face at the action. Furihata took a deep breath and held the phone to his ear.

“H-Hello?”

A long stretch of silence occupied the other end of the line. Finally, a cold voice replied, sending shivers down his spine. _“Who is this?”_

“M-my name is Furihata Kouki. I-I’m Sei’s friend, I’m the one that stayed here last night. I’m the one that convinced him to play basketball again.” He readjusted his grip on the phone, his palm so sweaty that he feared he might drop it. “I-If you’re going to punish someone, then punish me! It’s my fault! Th-the only thing Sei’s guilty of is being a good friend. He was here for me when I needed him the most.” He gave his friend a fond look before hardening his features with determination.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as you don’t make him quit again.”

Another long pause punctuated the conversation, followed by a deep chuckle that reverberated in his ears.

_“Furihata Kouki, is it? Very well. Please pass the phone back to Seijuurou.”_

Confused, Furihata pulled the phone away from his ear and handed it back over. Akashi took it and held it to his ear, bewildered.

“Yes? … Yes. Very well. …. Thank you, father. Yes. Goodbye.”

Akashi hung up the call, still staring at him with wide eyes. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Furihata’s legs gave out and he crumpled onto the floor, breathing deeply. “I-I can’t believe I did either. U-um… Wh-what did he say?”

Akashi stared at the phone in his hand, as though trying to tell a dream apart from reality. “He said okay.”

“What?”

“He said okay,” Akashi repeated, looking down at Furihata, a mix of emotions dancing behind his eyes. “On the condition that you must attend the year-end party for the company with me.”

“H-huh?” He was expecting some kind of obscure torture method, or possibly for hired assassins to come crashing through the window as soon as the call ended, or really anything other than having to attend a _party._

“Will you?” Akashi asked, his tone urgent.

Furihata blinked, surprised he even felt the need to ask. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he was still recovering from the adrenaline rush, and it came out looking more like a grimace. “I-I mean, if that’s all I have to do, then… O-of course, Sei. A-anything for you.”

Akashi dropped to knees and flung his arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

“Thank you, Kouki.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Furi, why are you only brave when it comes to things that don't involve making out with Akashi? Maybe someday...  
> Thank you once again everyone for the kind comments and all the kudos and everything! It means so much to me ;_; Unfortunately I'll be busy with end of the year things, so I'm going to have to suspend my biweekly updates for now. I should be back to regular updates in about a month. I'm on tumblr @heema-wren if you want to yell at me to update faster (it actually works sometimes) or just so you know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.  
> Thank you again everyone, I love you! ;A;


	11. Chapter 11

Akashi stepped off of the train, an unfamiliar pang of anxiety seizing his chest as his feet touched the platform. He observed his shoes instead of the crowd, although he knew he should be looking for Furihata. It hadn’t been that long since he’d last seen his friend, but given the awkward circumstances that preceded their parting, Akashi wasn’t sure what to expect. They hadn’t spoken a word about it.

Akashi hated the uncertainty. For someone who had once considered himself ‘absolute,’ this was quite the fall from grace. He and Furihata had been the closest of friends a scant few weeks ago, but it seemed like one unfortunate slip up on his part had sent the whole thing spiralling into disaster. From their series of miscommunications, to Mayuzumi’s bold stunt (which Akashi had sworn an oath to make the phantom’s life miserable for), to the incredibly embarrassing morning incident, to the phone call with his father, Akashi had no clue why Furihata was still speaking with him at all. He had inadvertently thrown the poor boy into a whirlwind of drama, and he’d already had his own troubles to sort through.

Akashi couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Even so, sulking about it wasn’t going to do him any good now. He raised his eyes and scanned the busy station, locking onto the unmistakable mop of mousy hair in no time. Furihata lifted his hand and waved, a goofy smile spread across his face that made Akashi’s mouth quirk up in response. The familiar gesture was both welcoming and reassuring, and it made it that much easier to take the first step forward.

He met Furihata halfway, both of them skidding to a sudden halt in front of each other.

“U-um… Hi,” Furihata greeted with a lopsided smile.

“Hello, Kouki,” Akashi replied, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

An ocean of silence stretched between them. The small gap that separated them felt more like a vast chasm. Akashi watched the brunet wring his hands and shift his weight from one foot to the other, like there was something more that he wanted, but couldn’t bring himself to ask for.

“Um… How was your trip?”

“It was fine.” A fact that Furihata was well aware of, Akashi knew, because he’d asked several times via text on his way here.

“O-oh, right. That’s good.”

He couldn’t blame the brunet’s poor attempt at conversation, though. It was _ something, _ which was much better than he was coming up with. His mouth was dry, and dread and anxiety were keeping his tongue in check. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything that was less than perfect, and he needed the perfect thing to say desperately. Something that would fix things, something that would banish this horrible discomfort that hung between them, something that would return things to the way they were. But those magic words were nowhere to be found, and so he could only stare at his friend dumbly, a well of emotion simmering deep in his chest.

“Um… So… I guess we should head out?” Furihata ventured.

“Oh,” Akashi said lamely, blinking himself out his introspection. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Furihata guided him through the busy station, weaving in and out of the masses of people expertly. Akashi had no trouble keeping up with him, but he found his gaze dipping down to his friend’s hands and he wondered if Furihata would ever grab his wrist and cheerily tug him along again. He pushed the thought away before it could sink in.

Even after the crowd parted, Furihata continued forward without slowing, never looking back. Akashi followed two steps behind him, tracing the lines of the brunet’s figure with his eyes. He seemed more frazzled than usual, but had so far given no indication as to why. Was it because Akashi was here? Perhaps he’d changed his mind about wanting him present, but had been too scared to tell him not to come.

The brunet stopped suddenly, peering at their surroundings before turning to face Akashi. To his surprise, Furihata’s face was flushed far more than a brisk walk would cause, and his wide eyes met his only for a moment before fleeing back to the ground.

“S-Sei, u-um…” Furihata chewed his lip, fidgeting with his clothing.

This was it, Akashi was sure. He was going to tell him that he didn’t want him here. He was going to tell him to go back to Kyoto, that he was sorry he didn’t say anything sooner, but things had gotten too out of hand. Perhaps this would be how their friendship would come to an untimely end.

“Um…” Furihata glanced up at through his messy fringe. “C-Can I give you a hug?”

Or perhaps not.

Once the initial shock wore off, Akashi hardly had time to mutter, “of course” before Furihata’s arms were flung around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He returned the embrace, basking in the familiar warmth and scent that accompanied the wonderful closeness.

But despite the joy that filled his heart at Furihata’s gesture, there was something unmistakably off about it as well. Furihata had never  _ asked _ for a hug before, not even the first time he’d given one. There had never been a need for explicit permission from him before. And now, the brunet was too tense, too rigid in his arms, whereas even a brush of fingers from Akashi would have melted the worry out of his body before. It was like they had regressed back to the early stages of their relationship, except this was so much worse. He was starting to feel as though he had damaged things beyond repair.

Furihata pulled away, his face visibly redder than before, and turned before their eyes could catch. Any other time and Akashi might have found the embarrassment adorable on Furihata’s innocent features, but now there was only an ache in his heart where a warm fullness used to lie.

“Kouki,” he said, the name laced with longing that he prayed wasn’t distinguishable. It caught the other’s attention, enough for him to face him once again, and Akashi grabbed his wrist to secure his focus. It took all his willpower not to slip his fingers down into Furihata’s hand. “Happy birthday.”

Furihata smiled shyly. “I-it’s not my birthday until tomorrow, though. But, um… Th-thanks.” He looked down at their connection, and Akashi could feel faint tremors beginning to wrack his hand. “A-and thanks for coming, too. I know you probably have a lot going on… Um… How are things with your dad?”

“We have not spoken much since… since then,” Akashi said, choosing his words carefully. Sensing the tremors starting to build, he reluctantly released his hold before Furihata could get too worked up. “He does not know I am here this weekend, to the best of my knowledge.”

“He… He doesn’t?” Furihata asked, worry quickly consuming him. “Are you sure this is okay, then? I… I don’t want you to get in anymore trouble because of me. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand, I just wanted you to--”

“It’s quite alright, Kouki,” Akashi told him, smiling despite the unease that lingered in the back of his mind. “I am here of my own accord. You needn’t worry for my sake.”

Furihata forced out a breath of laughter. “I-If you say so, Sei. Um… What’s this end of the year party thing like, anyways? I-is it like… I mean… How out of place am I gonna be?”

“It is largely just an excuse for networking, in the eyes of my father,” Akashi explained, a smile playing on his lips at his friend’s nerves. “Although I am certain there are several who attend that will see it as an excuse to drink too much and make fools of themselves. Towards the end of the night, there is invariably some spectacle to behold.”

Furihata laughed in earnest this time. “R-really? I can’t imagine a bunch of important CEOs getting too drunk at a fancy party…” He paused, a curious spark in his eyes. “Have you ever gotten drunk there?”

Akashi chuckled. “No, my father would never permit such an act on my part. I have gotten rather tipsy on a few occasions, however.”

“Yeah, I never have either,” Furihata replied. “Wait, so… If it’s a fancy party, do I need to dress up for it? Like… a suit, or something? Because I don’t have anything like that...”

“Oh… Yes, formal attire is required,” Akashi said. The thought of Furihata in a suit hadn’t occurred to him. Perhaps he should thank his father for this opportunity, after all. “I will take care of it, Kouki. You needn’t worry.”

“You always say that,” Furihata muttered, looking at his feet as he scuffed them on the ground. “But I do anyways.”

Akashi opened his mouth to reply, but Furihata had already started walking ahead. He turned around and offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but Akashi took the invitation to join him anyway.

He didn’t know how to fix this broken state between them, but he would do whatever it took.

  
  


“Hey guys, we’re here!”

Akashi entered the living room after Furihata, and they were greeted with the sight of Kawahara and Fukuda tangled up in cords, attempting to hook up a video game console to Kagami’s television.

“Hey Furi, hey Akashi,” Fukuda said, smiling pleasantly despite the flurry of expletives that were pouring out of Kawahara’s mouth at his side. “Kagami and Kuroko are in the kitchen, I think food should be done soon.”

Akashi nodded his response, unsure how to act around Furihata’s friends. They had gotten along well enough at the street basketball tournament that summer, but Akashi had stayed within his comfort zone at Furihata and Kuroko’s sides for the most part. Given the state of things now, however, he was forced to wonder if he would be granted a comfort zone at all tonight.

“I’ll put your bag away, Sei,” Furihata offered, holding his hand out. “I think we’re sharing the guest room tonight. If we sleep at all, that is.”

Furihata laughed at his statement, but Akashi felt the tips of his ears grow red as he obediently handed his bag over. He was certain there was no double entendre to his friend’s words, but his imagination had been especially active since he woke up on the couch with Furihata clinging to him. He tried his hardest to force any impure thoughts away, but at the end of the day, he was a healthy teenage boy, and there was only so much he could do.

Akashi whirled in the opposite direction, determined not to stare at the defined lines he could spot through Furihata’s t-shirt, and headed towards the kitchen.

A heavenly scent greeted his nose as he approached the room. Kuroko sat at the counter, idly watching Kagami prepare the food with deft hands. Even though he was only halfway done, everything already looked delicious.

“Akashi-kun,” Kuroko greeted with a nod, gesturing to the seat next to him. Akashi took it, sadly noting the wary glance Kagami cast his way before returning to his cooking.

“How have you been?” Akashi asked his old friend, feeling the calmest he had since stepping foot off of the train.

“I am fine,” Kuroko replied, his expression as blank as Akashi remembered it. Even so, he could feel his gaze boring into him, dissecting his thoughts and deciphering his actions, and the fleeting calmness Akashi felt began to slowly seep away. They remained silent for a long moment, the sizzling and popping noises of the kitchen filling the void.

Finally, Kuroko spoke, putting to an end to all hopes Akashi had of comfort during his stay.

“Did something happen between you and Furihata-kun?”

Akashi cursed the day he bid Kuroko to hone his observational skills. He sighed, propping his elbows up on the counter and resting his head in his hands. Kagami shot him a strange look, then returned to his cooking while trying to appear nonchalant as he listened in. Kuroko waited expectantly.

“What makes you ask that?” Akashi probed, though the defeat in his voice was enough to indicate the phantom man had hit the nail right on the head.

“Furihata-kun has been acting strange for quite a while now,” Kuroko explained. “He has not said a word about you in weeks. I did not know if he would even invite you this weekend.”

Akashi’s heart sank. Perhaps he was correct in his assumptions earlier after all. He could think of no other explanation for Furihata’s continued behavior, and if it was noticeable to others, then it was only a matter of time until the fragile threads holding them together came undone.

“Yes, something happened,” Akashi replied miserably. He wasn’t sure how much he should divulge -- wasn’t even sure where to begin with what had “happened.” His head whirled with the events of the past few weeks, bile rising in his stomach as he went over all the things he’d done wrong for the millionth time.

“I see,” Kuroko replied. He turned to look at the scene in the living room, where Furihata had joined Fukuda and Kawahara in their quest to conquer Kagami’s electronics. “Have you talked to Furihata-kun about it?”

“No,” Akashi admitted, sighing. He forced himself not to look over at the brunet and tried to tune out the sound of his infectious laughter.

“That is very unlike you, Akashi-kun. It must a very serious situation, in that case,” Kuroko observed, carefully studying Akashi’s downcast expression. “However, if it is any consolation, I do not believe Furihata-kun is upset with you.”

“Oh?” Akashi doubted that, but he also doubted his friend would lie to him. Kuroko had known Furihata much longer than he had, and he spent considerably more time with him. Perhaps there was something he was missing.

“I think you should talk to each other,” Kuroko intoned, though there was an unmistakable pleading in his eyes.

Akashi knew he was right, but the thought of confronting Furihata was discomforting. There was as much a chance of fixing things as there was changing things irrevocably. He wasn’t sure if he was prepared to deal with the consequences.

“Hey Kuroko, Kagami! Whoa, it smells great!”

As if on cue, Furihata emerged into the kitchen, grinning widely. He leaned on the counter next to Akashi, peering over it to get a good look at the food. Akashi could feel the tension between them even in that simple movement, the nervous energy permeating the centimeters that separated them. His mouth went dry again at only imagining asking Furihata to talk, but he had to. He just needed to find the right moment.

“Oh yeah, Furi, Alex left you a present,” Kagami said, grinning. Furi’s face immediately flushed red.

“Sh-sh-she did? Wh-what kind of…” Furihata stammered, cut off by Kagami flicking him in the forehead.

“Not that kind of present, you perv!” he shot back, annoyed.

“Who is Alex?” Akashi whispered to Kuroko, an irrational surge of jealousy coursing through him. Kuroko must have noticed, because there was amusement in his voice when he responded.

“She is Kagami-kun’s mentor from America,” he said. He turned to regard his teammate. “Kagami-kun, I don’t recall you mentioning a gift from Alex. What did she--”

He fell silent as Kagami opened the fridge, revealing a mountain of beer inside. Furihata practically choked at the sight.

“Th-that’s for me?!”

“Well, it’s for _ someone,” _ Kagami said innocently. He grinned. “She’s not going to be back for a while. I don’t think she’ll notice if some of it’s gone.”

Kuroko frowned. “Kagami-kun, I am not sure this is the best idea.”

Kagami looked ready to argue when Furihata cut in. “M-Maybe not, but, uh… It might be fun, right? I-I mean… Don’t you think so, Sei?”

The brunet looked over at him with an awkward, too wide smile. Still, Akashi’s heart was pounding in his ears.

This could be trouble.

  
  


Akashi could count the times he had been wrong in his life on one hand. This was definitely not one of those times.

Dinner had been pleasant enough. Kagami’s food was delectable, and Kawahara and Fukuda kept the mood light enough that Akashi’s worry was forgotten for the time being. They had managed to get Fukuda’s console connected and working, and they were both talking excitedly about the games they’d brought. Akashi found himself drawn into the conversation more than anyone, even more so than Furihata, who was mostly listening and stealing glances at him between bites of food. Their eyes would meet for a moment every now and then, and Furihata would give him that same awkward smile before pointedly concentrating on his drink.

After dinner came a round of fighting games that Akashi, predictably, won without contest. He opted to sit out for a few games and watch the Seirin players fight against each other, who were yelling out obscenities and inside jokes that he could only guess at the meaning. It was considerably more fun than he had imagined it would be, but to his great disappointment, he spent the least amount of time with Furihata by far. The brunet seemed to be purposefully avoiding any situation where it was just the two of them, even if the others were still present in the room.

He couldn’t imagine how he’d be able to confront Furihata if things continued the way they had been that night, but it was then that Kagami yelled out, “Oi, Furi! Catch!” and tossed a can his way.

Watching Furihata down the drink at the urging of his teammates (with Kuroko watching on silently) was certainly amusing in and of itself. The brunet cringed after his first sip, claiming that it tasted disgusting, before taking another big gulp. He finished the can in mere minutes and had another one thrust into his hand immediately afterward.

In retrospect, Akashi probably should’ve known right then what kind of night it would be.

Beer was passed all around, and everyone partook in the beverages. Akashi sat next to Kuroko as Kawahara handed the both of them one, and they exchanged hesitant glances.

Akashi didn’t trust himself to lose control around Furihata. The last time he had, he had only let his other (and much more impulsive) self take over, and he had still let his feelings for the brunet cloud his better judgment. If he was even the slightest bit tipsy and had a moment alone with his friend, the outcome was anyone’s guess. Their situation at the present was too delicate to take any risks, but to outright refuse a drink would be far too suspicious. He cracked open the can and nursed a sip of the sour liquid.

Kuroko did the same at his side, but after only one drink, the phantom’s poor constitution betrayed him. He rocked and swayed in his seat, passing out soon after. The other Seirin players stifled laughter as Kagami picked up his small frame and carried him into his bedroom, rejoining them once Kuroko was taken care of.

The Seirin players got more rowdy as the alcohol flowed and the night continued on, but Furihata was by far the worst of them. Since he was “the birthday boy,” everyone was intent on making him drink twice as much as anyone else. Furihata was surprisingly accepting of this, though at a certain point Akashi feared it was because he had forgotten how to say no rather than any inclination of his own to drink. Just as Kagami was about to pass him another can, he intercepted it.

“I think Kouki has had quite enough for now,” he said, his words sharp and sober in stark contrast to the slurred shouts of Kawahara and Fukuda as they tried (and failed) for the fourth time in a row to pass a song on a rhythm game.

“Seeeeeeeiiiiii!”

Akashi went rigid as Furihata’s arms flung around him, his full weight knocking them back onto the sofa. The brunet landed gracelessly on his lap, clinging to him and nuzzling his neck.

“You’re the best fucking friend _ ever,”  _ he gushed, his breath hot against Akashi’s skin, sending shivers down his spine. This was too close -- way too close. “You’re so good to me!”

Akashi looked around for someone to help him out of his situation, but the others were all absorbed in the game on the screen. No one was even giving the two of them a second glance. They could do anything right now, and nobody would notice.

**Tempting, isn’t it?**

Akashi forced the thought away, instead focusing on some way to pry Furihata off of him before things became  _ incredibly  _ awkward. Forget trying to talk to him tonight, Akashi was having a difficult enough time trying to keep his senses straight. If the brunet kept clinging to him, he wasn’t sure how long his self control was going to last.

“Kouki, perhaps you should go to bed,” Akashi suggested, craning his neck to keep Furihata’s lips away from it. “It--It is getting late.” He swallowed thickly as the brunet pulled himself closer once again. “Surely you must be tired.”

“Mmmmmm,” Furihata hummed in thought, then snickered into Akashi’s shirt. “Only if you come with me.”

Akashi reminded himself that Furihata was drunk, and that once again, there was no hidden meaning behind his words. If he could get him into bed and get him to sleep, perhaps there was still a chance they would be able to talk in the morning before Akashi’s self control slipped and made things between them worse, because it was slipping very, very quickly.

“F-fine,” Akashi managed, as Furihata shifted on his lap in a far too pleasant way. He urged the brunet off of him as gently as possible, but had to catch him to keep him from toppling over as they stood.

“I’m taking Kouki to bed,” Akashi announced, which was met with a huge snort of laughter by Kawahara. Fukuda smacked him on shoulder.

“Night Furi!”

“Happy birthday Furi!”

“Enjoy your  _ present, _ Furi--ow, stop that!”

Furihata laughed raucously as he slumped against Akashi. His face burned at the jokes as he helped his friend down the hallway to the guest room, even though he knew they were said in jest. There was rarely a pair of close friends that didn’t receive a jab or two at being in a relationship, but they were not far off the mark from what Akashi actually desired.

His attraction to Furihata had gone far past simple admiration or appreciation for Furihata’s personality. The need for physical affection had become overwhelming, even moreso now that it seemed to be taboo between them. But Furihata’s drunken self had forgotten all about their unease around each other from earlier, and was doing more than his share to make up for lost time. If Furihata was capable of standing on his own, then perhaps Akashi would’ve been in heaven, but given his inebriated state, Akashi found himself more conflicted than ever before.

He closed the door behind them and helped Furihata onto the bed, only mildly horrified that Furihata began peeling off his shirt immediately. He turned on heel to leave, but Furihata was aware enough to reach out and grab him.

“Seeeei, nooo! You said you’d stay with me!”

Akashi’s arm burned with heat where Furihata’s hand gripped it. He gritted his teeth, steeling his resolve. He could do this.

“Kouki, you need your rest,” he said patiently. “Just lay down and get some sleep. I’ll be right in the other room.”

“Nooo, you promised! You gotta!” Furihata tugged on his arm insistently, his strength catching Akashi by surprise. He teetered dangerously for a moment before regaining his footing, only for Furihata to pull at him again, this time landing him unceremoniously on the bed.

Adrenaline surged through Akashi as he fought to sit up and fling himself off of the bed, but Furihata wasn’t going to let him win so easily. He wrestled him onto his back and straddled Akashi’s waist, pinning his wrists to the bed beneath them. Akashi’s chest heaved with labored breath, his face flushed from the compromising position -- one that he had imagined more than once in a much less innocent context -- in addition to the fact that Furihata was half naked on top of him.

This wasn’t how he was expecting the night to go.

“Kouki,” he rasped, flexing his fingers in a poor attempt to direct his blood flow. “I-I… Will you let me up?”

“No! Cause you’re gonna leave!” Furihata replied, frowning deeply.

Akashi forced himself to breathe. “I’ll stay,” he promised. “As long as you get off of me.”

Furihata frowned even more at that, his eyes roaming from Akashi’s eyes down to his chest. Before Akashi was able to protest, Furihata had lifted his shirt and slid a hand beneath it.

“Kouki!” Akashi hissed, his eyes wide.  _ “What are you doing?” _

“I knew it! You’ve got  _ abs!” _ Furihata whined, pouting. “It’s not faaaair! Why are you so perfect?!”

“K-Kouki, please,” Akashi pleaded, his mind working overtime. “Y-You should--go to sleep.”

This was quickly becoming too much for him to deal with. An overly affectionate Furihata was one thing, but an overly affectionate Furihata pinning him to the bed and feeling him up was something even his wildest dreams couldn’t prepare him for.

Akashi wasn’t opposed to this situation -- oh, no. Quite the contrary, in fact. Akashi’s thoughts had veered in this direction too often for him to deny that he wanted it, but he had already taken advantage of Furihata in a vulnerable state once, and he was not about to do it again. He wouldn’t do this if he was sober, and that fact cast a shadow over all of his hormone laden thoughts.

**How do you know he wouldn’t?**

_ This is your fault, _ Akashi thought harshly, biting back a gasp as Furihata’s fingers brushed against his skin again.

**There was nothing I did that he protested.**

“Seeeeiiii,” Furihata whined, looking down on him with hooded eyes. “How come?”

Akashi was frozen in place, his breath caught in his throat. “Be… Because it’s late, Kouki. You’ll be tired in the morning.”

“No!” Furihata said, shaking his head wildly. “Thas--S’not what I meant! How come you kissed Mayuzumi-san and not me?”

Akashi’s mouth opened and closed dumbly, convinced that he heard wrong. A foreign feeling of amusement echoed through his mind. “I--Pardon?”

“You kissed Mayuzumi-san, and you said you guys were just friends! But we’re even better friends! Bestest friends! So you should kiss me too!”

Akashi’s heart was in his throat. “Kouki, you’re drunk.”

“So?! So are you!” Furihata insisted. He leaned over, squinting into Akashi’s left eye. “Lemme talk to the other one! He’d do it! He likes me!”

**He’s right. I do like him.**

_ I can’t do this, _ Akashi thought desperately, gripping at the blankets beneath him. Furihata’s face was centimeters away and he could feel his breath on his lips.  _ Take over. I beg of you. I don’t care what you do. _

**You can’t always take the easy way out.**

“Seeeeiii, come ooooon!” Furihata groaned, his eyes wandering down to Akashi’s lips. He let out a shaky breath. “... I really, really, really want to.”

Akashi wasn’t sure who closed the gap between them.

His first thought was that he must be dreaming, that this situation was too impossible to ever be reality. But the stench of alcohol on Furihata’s breath was enough to assure him that the clumsy lips pressing urgently against his weren’t just his imagination, and that after all these torturous months, he was  _ kissing _ Furihata.

More than that, Furihata was kissing  _ back. _ His hands tangled in Akashi’s hair, gripping the red locks tightly as he swept his tongue through his mouth. He pulled their bodies flush together, and the feeling of Furihata’s bare torso against his exposed skin was electrifying. Akashi moaned at the sensation, urging Furihata’s ministrations on, letting the brunet ravish him. Their lips fit perfectly together, and the feeling of Furihata pressing him into the mattress was so incredibly  _ right  _ that Akashi hoped the kiss would never stop.

When Furihata pulled away, licking his lips and panting, Akashi felt like breathing would never come naturally to him again. The brunet grinned sloppily.

“S’not fair,” he said. “You’re even better at kissing than me.”

“Debatable,” Akashi breathed.

Furihata laughed and dipped his head in for another kiss, one that Akashi arched up into eagerly. He grabbed onto the brunet’s bare shoulders, his nails digging in a little too deeply. Furihata made a low sound at the sensation, his hips rolling as he plunged his tongue back into Akashi’s mouth.

It felt  _ good. _ Too good.

_ He’s drunk. _

It took all of Akashi’s combined willpower and strength to push Furihata off of him. The brunet stared at him confusedly through glossy eyes, a trail of saliva still hanging from his lips.

Guilt wracked Akashi’s mind. How could he have let himself get so carried away? Wasn’t this the exact situation he wanted to avoid? He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to regain some sense.

“I--” Akashi started, but when he met Furihata’s eyes, he could only see hurt welling within them. He mentally cursed his situation; he was doomed no matter what he did, it seemed. “I’m--tired, Kouki. I apologize. Would you… Shall we get some sleep now?”

Furihata brightened, his smile returning to his face as quickly as it left. “Will you sleep with me?”

If Akashi hadn’t already failed his test of will tonight, that question surely would have done it. “Yes, Kouki. I will be right here next to you.”

Akashi situated himself stiffly on one side of the bed, hoping Furihata would respect his personal space. He was not so lucky, of course; the brunet curled up next to him, cuddling up close and laying his head on Akashi’s shoulder.

“You’re my best friend, Sei,” Furihata declared, squeezing him tightly. “I love youuuuu!”

Akashi sighed in defeat, wrapping an arm loosely around his friend’s shoulders. “I love you too, Kouki.”   
  


 

Akashi dragged himself out of the guest room the next morning, silently thankful that Furihata had stayed asleep as he crawled out of bed. He had no idea if he’d slept a wink that night, too many thoughts and emotions running through his head.

Whatever hopes he had of patching things up with Furihata were completely dashed. After last night, there was no way Akashi could ever go back to being just friends.

He wanted more.

He trudged through the living room, amazed to see Kawahara and Fukuda still awake, playing an RPG together, though their banter was considerably less enthusiastic than it had been the night before. He made his way into the kitchen, where a wide-awake Kagami was making breakfast for Kuroko, his eyes barely open and his hair sticking out every which way.

“Whoa, Akashi,” Kagami said, raising an eyebrow when he spotted him. “You look like shit. How much did you have to drink last night?”

Akashi took a seat next to his blue haired friend, silently accepting the black coffee that Kagami poured for him. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, remembering the feeling of Furihata’s hands doing the same from the night before.

“Not enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shiiiiit I'm so sorry you guys. I meant to update a month ago, but the holidays kicked my ass and it's taken me forever to get back into writing. I hope this chapter makes up for it; I'm not 100% on it and I feel like it's a little ooc and out of place, but I hope it'll at least sorta make up for my extended absence ;_; i'm gonna try to get back into biweekly updates but i can't promise anything. we're on the downswing though, there's only a few chapters left!  
> thank you so much for all the kind comments and kudos, holy crap over 450 ;A; you're all too kind, thank you thank you thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

Furihata remembered everything.

Well, maybe not  _ everything. _ A good portion of his birthday night was a complete blur, except for a couple of Kagami’s hilarious attempts at a rhythm game and some inventive new swear words from Kawahara. But he  _ did _ remember the important things, like being a nervous wreck around Akashi, constantly worrying that his newfound feelings were way too obvious, and deciding that beer might be the liquid courage he needed to act normally around his best friend.

And things like the feel of Akashi’s lips against his, the low moan in his throat as he threaded fingers through crimson locks, the delectable gasp that escaped  when their hips rolled together--

“Furi, look out!”

Furihata jerked his head up just in time to see an orange sphere rocketing his way. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back staring at the gymnasium ceiling, stars clouding his vision. The squeak of sneakers sounded in his ears as his teammates ran to his aid, hovering over him with concerned faces.

“Kuroko, I think you killed him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kagami-kun. He’s still breathing.

“He took an ignite pass to the _ face! _ If he’s not dead, he should be!”

“Out of the way, morons!” Riko shouted, pushing the boys out of the way. She knelt beside him, her mouth twisting into a frown as she examined the damage. “How are you feeling, Furi?”

Furihata closed his eyes and groaned. The truth of it was he felt awful, and it had very little to do the pounding in his head. “I’m fine… I think.”

He pushed himself off the ground and up to sitting. The world swam around him, and he clutched his head to make it stop.

“I don’t think you’re fine,” Riko said, her arms crossed over her chest. “Tsuchida, take him to the infirmary. Don’t let him do anything stupid. And the rest of you! Back to practice!”

“Here, Furi. Let me help you.” Furihata looked up to see Tsuchida offering a hand out to him, a patient smile on his face. He let go of his head slowly, and once he’d determined that the spinning had stopped, he took his hand and let the older teen help him to his feet. He swayed on his feet, but was able to stay upright on his own.

“You really don’t look so good,” Tsuchida commented as they left the gym. “Let me know if you need to stop or sit down or anything, okay?

“Y-yeah, okay,” Furihata sighed. He probably looked about as good as he felt.

Ever since he spent the night at Akashi’s apartment, imagining what it would be like to kiss him had completely consumed his thoughts, but even that had done nothing to prepare him for the real thing. It wasn’t as though he’d never kissed anyone before, but it was nothing like this. Kissing Akashi had been  _ amazing _ . It was like every nerve in his body had been set on fire, and a voracious hunger had been awoken inside of him.

But then Akashi had pushed him away.

He couldn’t remember why. He couldn’t even remember  _ if  _ Akashi had given a reason. But what did the reason for it matter, anyway? The end result was still the same. Furihata was only thankful that Akashi was drunk too, because he didn’t seem to remember any of it. Or if he did, he hadn’t spoken a word about it, which might mean he just wanted to ignore it and stay as friends.

_ But can I really stay as friends at this point? _

“Hey, Furi?”

Furihata jumped at the sound of his name, and another wave of dizziness overtook him. He stumbled a step, but Tsuchida caught him and kept him steady.

“Whoa, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Tsuchida said, frowning in concern. “Are you really okay, man? Your injury aside, you’ve been really distracted lately. Is something going on?”

Furihata stared down at his feet. There was no possible way he could tell Tsuchida everything, but he desperately needed to talk to  _ someone _ . Too much had happened, and for the most part, he’d kept it all to himself. It was starting to eat away at him. Plus, Tsuchida was the only other guy on the team with real dating experience. Maybe he could help.

“U-um, yeah, actually,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other. “Th-there’s uh… Someone that I like.”

“Really?” Tsuchida’s face brightened immediately. “That’s great! Who is she? Do I know her?”

“Oh, uh,” Furihata stammered, wincing at the mention of ‘she.’  _ Definitely  _ no way he could tell him everything. “No, sh-she… uh, goes to another school. B-but, it’s, um… Kind of a weird situation. And I don’t know what to do.”

Tsuchida raised a brow. “How is it weird?”

“It’s just, well…” Furihata scrambled for an idea how to phrase it without being obvious who he was referring to. Maybe he should’ve thought this out more. “H-Have you ever met someone that you liked as a friend, but then… You realized you might like them as a lot more than a friend?”

“Sure I have. That’s how it was with me and my girlfriend,” Tsuchida replied, smiling. “We sat next to each other in first year and hung out as friends all the time. I thought she already had a boyfriend for the longest time, so I never even thought of her in a romantic way until I found out she didn’t.” He scratched his head. “That kind of thing is pretty common though, don’t you think? I wouldn’t call it weird.”

“W-Well, I meant… Like realizing you like someone that you never thought you’d ever want to date.” Furihata could feel the heat rising to his face. It was embarrassing enough to think this sort of stuff, but it was a whole new level of awkward to actually admit it out loud.

Tsuchida’s face turned suddenly serious. “You’re not getting involved with someone shady, are you?”

“Wh-what? No!” Furihata answered indignantly. “I meant more like someone that’s not my type. At all. Like the exact opposite of what I thought my type was.”  _ My type being  _ girls _ , of course, _ he thought with an inward sigh.

“Oh,” Tsuchida replied, his brows creased in thought. “Well, that’s not really something you can help, is it? You like who you like.”

“Y-yeah, but… Suddenly thinking of hi--h-her as more than a friend is kind of weird. We were really good friends and then I get all these feelings… I don’t know what to do. What if I say something and then realize I don’t actually like her? I don’t want to mess up what we already have…”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Tsuchida said, nodding sagely. “What was it that made you realize you liked her as more than a friend?”

Furihata’s face burned once again. “I… I saw them kissing someone else. And I realized that I wanted to be the one to do that.”

“Whoa,” Tsuchida replied, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “I’d say that’s a pretty good indication of your feelings. Why don’t you just say something to her? If she’s your friend, she’ll understand even if she doesn’t feel the same way.” Furihata must have made a strange face, because Tsuchida instantly backtracked. “I-I mean, hey, how about… Do you guys have any friends in common that you could talk to?”

“Huh?” Furihata perked up at that.

“You know, like… Someone that might know whether or not she likes you? You could even ask them to try and find out for you if you think they’d go for it.”

“Oh,” he replied dumbly. Kuroko instantly came to mind; particularly, the approving smile he gave him last summer when he found out about his and Akashi’s friendship. “Y-yeah, actually, there is someone.”

He’d never considered asking Kuroko for help. It would be a big risk to tell Kuroko how he felt about their friend, no matter how he looked at it. But there was also the possibility that Kuroko already knew of Akashi’s preferences, and was perfectly fine with it. He’d never said a word about it, so there was no way to tell. The phantom didn’t seem like the type to raise a big fuss even if he didn’t approve, anyway.

Tsuchida grinned. “It’s Akashi, isn’t it?”

Furihata’s heart stopped.

How could he know he liked Akashi? Was he that obvious? He didn’t even know Tsuchida that well! Were more rumors going around that he didn’t know about? Who started them? His mind was working a mile a minute, trying to come up with excuses to get him out of this horrible situation, but the grin on Tsuchida’s face left him completely defeated. “H-How did you know?”

“Come on, it’s obvious!” Tsuchida laughed. “She’s from another school and you hang out with Akashi all the time. Who else would’ve introduced you?”

“Oh. … Oh!” Furihata laughed nervously, trying to calm the sudden spike in blood pressure. “Y-Yeah, th-that’s right. Akashi introduced us… Um… I-I’ll ask him about it. Th-thanks, senpai.”

“No problem!” Tsuchida beamed. “You know, we were real surprised when you started hanging out with Akashi. I thought you were terrified of him after last year’s Winter Cup!”

“I-I was,” Furihata admitted. Even last spring, when Akashi had visited Seirin to see Kuroko, he’d fled from the redhead like his life depended on it. Now, the thought of Akashi still sent his pulse racing, but for an entirely different reason. “I was wrong about him, though. He’s really nice.”

“Is it true you trained so much to get him to play again?” Tsuchida asked. Furihata nodded. “I heard Fukuda and Kawahara talking about it, but man, I couldn’t believe it. I thought you did it for a girl or something again. We were worried you were trying to get back with your ex.”

“Worried?” Furihata asked, confused. “Wh-why would you be worried?”

“She broke your heart!” Tsuchida replied, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Everyone was worried about you, the coach and captain especially. They’re in the same class that your ex’s new boyfriend was in, and apparently Riko almost got into a fist fight with him at one point. I guess the first term of the year was really tense, until they finally settled things. Turns out the guy didn’t even know Haruka had a boyfriend when they started hanging out.” He sighed and shook his head. “We all wanted to help you, but, well… We weren’t sure how. You didn’t want to talk about anything and all we had to go on were rumors.”

Furihata’s eyes widened. “Wh… Why are you telling me this now?”

Tsuchida shrugged. “You’re finally talking to people. I just want you to know we’ve got your back. We’re a team, not just on the court.” He smiled. “It seems like you hanging out with Akashi has done you a lot of good, though. Hopefully he’ll be able to help you with that girl too!”

Furihata laughed again, still awkward, but with a warmth spreading through his chest. He had more people looking out for him than he’d ever imagined. He felt silly for ever feeling like he had to shoulder his burdens all alone. Wasn’t that what he was telling Akashi not to do this whole time? It was time to start practicing what he preached.

He’d come too far to back down from a challenge now.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Tsuchida-senpai. I’ll… I’ll talk to him. Promise.”

  
  


Furihata flopped back onto his bed with a frustrated sigh.

He’d never considered just how difficult it was to get Kuroko alone to talk to him. When he wasn’t at Kagami’s side, he was nigh impossible to find. The couple times he had actually managed to find the blue haired phantom by himself, he couldn’t muster up the courage to say something before someone else came along.

What was he supposed to  _ say? _ Should he say exactly what he wanted straight out, or would that be too much to handle? But how could he lead into it slowly? He didn’t want to drag this out any longer than he needed to.

He stared at his phone, silently deliberating over what to do. If he couldn’t catch Kuroko alone during the day, then calling or texting him was his only option. He really didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone, but he could at least set up a meeting of some sort.

Furihata stared at the blank message screen, trying to decide what write, when his phone abruptly began to ring, causing him to shriek and drop the device on his face.

“Ow! Who the--?” He picked the phone back up, and checked to see who was calling. His mouth went dry at the name printed across the screen. He accepted the call, holding the phone to his ear gingerly.

“H-Hello?”

_ “Good evening, Kouki.”  _ Akashi’s smooth voice sent jolts of electricity surging through Furihata’s nerves. How on earth had he never noticed how nice his voice was? Then again, he was noticing a lot of things about the redhead lately that he hadn’t before.

“H-Hey, Sei! What, um, what’s up?”

Quiet laughter answered him.  _ “Are you alright? You sound awfully wound up.” _

_ You have no idea,  _ Furihata thought, fighting the urge to groan. Acting like everything was normal wasn’t going to be easy. He was a terrible liar.

“Y-Yeah! I’m fine! I just, uh, got… Hit in the face with a basketball at practice yesterday, and, uh… I guess my head’s still kind of fuzzy?”

_ “What?” _ Akashi replied urgently.  _ “Kouki, are you injured? Why did you not tell me as soon as it happened?” _

“Wha--No! I’m fine! I promise!” Furihata assured him. He smacked his palm over his face, wondering how much further he was going to dig himself into this hole. “I-I didn’t think it was a big deal. I went to the nurse and she said everything was fine. It was my own fault for getting distracted during practice.”

_ “Well, I’m relieved to hear you’re not hurt…” _ Akashi said,  _ “But you are usually very focused during games. I cannot imagine something breaking your concentration. Perhaps… There’s something bothering you?” _

“N-No!” Furihata replied a little too quickly. “I’m fine! J-just, uh, training a lot lately! Winter Cup coming up and all that! M-maybe I just need to rest some more!” He broke off into nervous titters, the silence on the other end of the line deafening. He was terribly tempted to throw his phone across the room and scream into his pillow.

_ “... Yes, perhaps you should,” _ Akashi responded. Was it Furihata’s imagination, or did he sound the slightest bit disappointed?  _ “Anyways, Kouki… I called because I had some things to ask you about the company party you are to attend.” _

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Furihata felt a weight lift from his shoulders at the change in topic. The weight instantly returned threefold when he recalled that he was going to said party to talk with Akashi’s  _ father _ . “U-Um… What about it?”

_ “I would like to take care of the formal attire needed for the event,”  _ Akashi continued.  _ “If you are free this weekend, I can schedule an appointment for a fitting.” _

“A f-fitting? L-like, as in a tailored suit? I-I figured I could just rent something…” Furihata felt anxiety creeping up his spine again.

_ “My father insists, I’m afraid,” _ Akashi explained, chuckling at the thought.  _ “Since you are a guest he invited personally, your appearance will reflect on him. He said he will pay for the expenses as well. I apologize, I know it is an inconvenience.” _

Furihata couldn’t help but feel like he would be picking out the clothes he’d wear to his own funeral. “It’s not that it’s an inconvenience, i-it’s just… th-this seems like a lot to go through just to talk to your dad…”

_ “I must agree with you,” _ Akashi said, sounding perplexed.  _ “I haven’t the slightest clue what my father has in mind. His actions have been rather strange lately.” _ He sighed.  _ “I truly am sorry to be putting you through this, Kouki. If you ever feel like it is too much of a burden, I would not hold it against you if you--” _

“No!” Furihata shouted into the receiver, a blush immediately creeping up at how desperate the cry was. “I-I mean… No, you don’t have to worry about that, Sei. It’s just going to a party and talking to your dad. It’s really not a big deal. Especially if it helps you out.”

Akashi sighed contentedly, and Furihata could  _ hear  _ the smile placed upon his lips.  _ “Kouki… I can never express my gratitude for all you’ve done. You are too good to me.” _

“I-I don’t know about that…” Furihata replied nervously, recalling vividly how he’d taken full advantage of Akashi in his drunken state just a couple weeks ago. The image of his friend lying beneath him, eyes half lidded and lips swollen, floated into his mind. He tried to quash the memory of Akashi moaning into his mouth, his smooth melodic voice becoming needy and undone, but his body wasn’t going to let him forget it so easily.

“U-Um, s-so, anyway!” he continued, trying to steer his thoughts back toward more innocent topics. “I’m free on Sunday, if that works for you.”

_“I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you, actually,”_ Akashi said, despondent. _“I had wanted to come, but there is too much I must get done here to allow a trip out of town. I apologize.”_

“Oh.” He couldn’t hide his disappointment. He hadn’t seen Akashi since his birthday, and at the rate they were going, he wouldn’t see him again until the Winter Cup. He was nervous to see him again after all that had happened, but when all was said and done, Akashi  _ was _ still his best friend. For now, at least. “W-Well, I’ll just have to hope I don’t pick out something too dumb looking without you there.”

Akashi laughed.  _ “The staff there is very helpful. You’ll be in good hands. And…” _ He paused for a long moment.  _ “I… I’m certain you’ll look handsome in whatever you choose.” _

Furihata’s eyes widened, his cheeks flushing once again. Did Akashi… Just call him  _ handsome? _

“N-No way,” he laughed nervously. “I-It doesn’t matter what I wear, I’m gonna look like a pile of garbage standing next to you. Y-you always look… Um… P-perfect.” Oh hell, what was he  _ saying? _ He wanted to crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment.

_ “I… I cannot say I agree but… Th-thank you, Kouki.” _ Akashi cleared his throat. _ “A-anyhow… It is late, and it sounds as though you need your rest. I… hope you have a good night.” _

“U-um, yeah,” Furihata agreed. “Y-You too, Sei. Sleep well.”

He hung the phone up, his mind working as quickly as his heart was beating. Was he reading too much into this? Was that comment completely innocent -- or was Akashi actually  _ flirting _ with him? And did he flirt  _ back?! _

He was in way over his head. He needed help.  _ Now. _

He grabbed his phone again, this time not hesitating to send Kuroko a lengthy message.

  
  


Sunday came all too quickly for Furihata’s liking. He  _ still _ had no idea what to say to Kuroko, or even how to broach the topic, but inviting him along for the suit fitting was a good enough excuse to talk to him alone, without any worry of someone else barging in mid-conversation. It hadn’t taken much to bribe the phantom man into joining him, just the promise of a vanilla milkshake and a stop at the bookstore after they were finished.

Of course, he did let Kuroko know that he wanted to talk to him about someone. He didn’t bother to say who, because he knew his teammate would figure out who he was referring to easily enough. Kuroko wasn’t stupid.

Furihata bounced from foot to foot, checking his watch every couple seconds. “Come on,” he mumbled to himself. “I just wanna get this over with…”

“Get what over with, Furihata-kun?”

He screeched, whirling around and facing Kuroko with wide eyes. “Y-You nearly gave me a heart attack! How long have you been here!?”

Kuroko shrugged. “Only a few minutes ago. I was curious to see how long it would take for you to notice.” He blinked up at Furihata placidly. “You seem awfully high-strung lately, Furihata-kun.”

“W-w-well, yeah,” he replied, blushing down at the ground. “I-I guess I’ve been kinda stressed out…”

“Ah,” Kuroko replied, “About the person you mentioned? Is it perhaps someone that you like?”

_ It’s now or never,  _ Furihata thought to himself. He took in a deep breath. “Yeah, it is. It’s… It’s actually someone you know. I wanted to ask you about them.”

“Someone I know?” Kuroko parroted, tilting his head. “I assume you are not referring to someone from Seirin.”

“That’s right,” Furihata said, color surging to his cheeks. He couldn’t believe he was going through with this. “It’s… Someone you went to middle school with. S-someone I met through basketball.”

Kuroko stared at him wordlessly, his large blue eyes boring a hole into his soul. Furihata shifted under that intense gaze, awaiting his friend’s answer. There could be no mistake who he was referring to.

The phantom rose his brows a fraction, his features otherwise remaining blank. “I see,” he said, quietly. “So you have a crush on Momoi-san.”

Furihata nearly choked. “What!?”

“If you are asking because of her feelings towards me, then you don’t need to worry. I have only ever seen Momoi-san as a friend, and I’m sure that--”

“Whoa, Kuroko, hold on a minute!” Furihata said, waving his arms frantically. “I-it’s not Momoi-san!”

“Is that so?” Kuroko asked, still expressionless. “But she is the only girl from my middle school that we both know. If it’s not her, then who could it be?” He continued to stare. Furihata could feel his will weakening every moment. He was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he?

“I-It’s…” Furihata took a deep breath, and clutched his head in his hands, screwing his eyes shut. “It’s Sei!!”

“I know it is, Furihata-kun. I was only teasing you.”

“Y-you… Huh?” He looked up in confusion, slightly annoyed at the small, knowing smile now on Kuroko’s face. “Y-You knew?”

“I’ve known ever since last summer,” Kuroko admitted. “When I saw how differently you acted around each other, I was quite sure.”

“Last summer?” he asked, incredulously. “B-But I didn’t like him back then!”

The phantom shrugged. “Perhaps you were not aware of it, but it was very obvious to me.”

Furihata groaned. Somehow this was  _ worse _ than if Kuroko hadn’t been accepting. Had he really liked Akashi for  _ that long _ and just hadn’t realized it? How did that even work? Had Akashi realized it too? Had he--

“W-Wait a second,” he said, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “Y-you said how differently we acted around each other… Are you saying h-he likes me too?”

“... I don’t know, Furihata-kun,” Kuroko replied, now somber once more. “I think you know Akashi-kun much better than I do now. You should talk to him.”

“T-talk?” Furihata repeated, his voice cracking. “I can’t just talk to him! What am I supposed to say? What if he doesn’t like me back? I-I’ve never…” He shook his head. “This is different from any crush I’ve ever had before. W-with girls, I could always kind of tell if they liked me, or if they were flirting with me. B-but I’ve never liked a guy before! And I haven’t had any close friends like this in a long time… I don’t know if we’re acting like normal friends or like… Y’know…”

“I see,” Kuroko said. “For whatever it may be worth, Akashi-kun seems to treat you very differently than any other friend. He has never said anything to me directly, however…” He paused, deliberating. “... I really think you should just talk to him.”

Furihata chewed his lip. “But couldn’t him treating me differently just be a ‘best friends’ kind of thing?”

“It could be,” he conceded. “That is for you to decide. Are there things he has said or done that you believe he would do to anyone close to him?”

The night at Akashi’s apartment came to mind, and Furihata felt another blush creep up on him. His face was going to change color permanently if he kept this up. “I… I guess you have a point there.”

Kuroko nodded. “Even if he does not feel the same, Akashi-kun is not the type to throw away friendships because of a few bumps in the road. He will understand.”

“Th-thanks, Kuroko,” Furihata said, his shoulders slumping in relief. “I’ll talk to him, just… I’m not sure when I’ll get the chance.”

“Why don’t you tell him at this party you are going to?” The corner of Kuroko’s mouth quirked into a smile. “You will look nice when you confess, at least.”

Furihata groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “That’s if his dad doesn’t kill me first. Or if I don’t have a heart attack from trying to talk to him first.” He gulped. “I-I’m really not looking forward to that party… At least it’s after the Winter Cup, though. That’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

“Oh.” Kuroko pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Speaking of the Winter Cup, Momoi-san gave me this. Take a look.”

Furihata took the proffered piece of paper, unfolding it quizzically. He looked it over carefully. “The Winter Cup brackets?”

“Yes,” Kuroko replied. “It appears we will be facing Rakuzan in the semi-finals, if we win all of our matches.”

It’d been so long since Furihata had stood on the court with Akashi. Their weekly training sessions over the summer seemed like an entire lifetime ago. He’d nearly forgotten how all of this started in the midst of everything that had happened recently, but now the paper in his hands was a solid reminder of why he’d come this far, and for whom.

_ I’ll do it for you! _

Suddenly, his anxiety melted away in favor of heated excitement. He’d get to play with Akashi in a real match. He’d get to show him exactly how far he’d come from the cowardly mess he was back in April.

He folded the paper up and grinned at his friend. “I think you mean  _ when  _ we win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is a kind of filler... We're getting to the action, I sweeeaaaaarrrr.  
> I am back! if you didn't catch it on my tumblr, I'm back to biweekly updates on this fic, and I have another akafuri chappa fic that I'm updating in between weeks, so I'll be throwing stuff on here every week at least until this fic is completed. I hope you guys will enjoy it! Thank you so much for reading and being so patient!

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you didn't quite pick it out, this takes place at the start of Akashi and Furi's second year. It splits off from canon at the end of the anime, but I'm hoping to keep it as close to canon as possible. We'll see how that goes, lol. It's gonna be multichapter and probably an agonizingly slow build, but as fair warning, I suck at updating. Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading <3


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